WHITE  MAGIC 


"There  was  nothing  about  him  which  .  .  .  suggested  the  ill- 
at-easeness  she  had  anticipated." 

[Page  100.] 


WHITE  MAGIC 

A     NOVEL 

BY 

DAVID   GRAHAM    PHILLIPS 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 
A.     B.     WFNZELL 


D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1909, 1910,  by  The  Curtis  Publishing  Company 


Pullteked  March, 


CONTENTS 


I. — A  TASTE  FOR  CANDY 1 

II.— THE  PAINTER  GETS  A  MODEL     ...  20 

III.— A  LESSON  IN  WOMAN 51 

IV. — AN  UPSET  CANOE 68 

V. — AN  ATTEMPT  TO  DAZZLE 97 

VI. — THE  GUILE  OF  INNOCENCE 127 

VII.— MR.  RICHMOND  CALLS 144 

VIII. — AN  INFURIATE  FATHER 161 

IX. — FAMILY  BEHIND-THE-SCENES         .        .        .        .175 

X. — BEATRICE  IN  CHAINS 192 

XI. — PETER  VISITS  THE  PRISON 209 

XII.— UNDER  COVER  OF  NIGHT       ...  .225 

XIII.— PETER'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR      .        .        .        .246 

XIV.— THE  SECOND  FLIGHT 274 

XV.— WADE'S  LOST  FORTUNE 280 

XVI.— PETER  CALLS  ON  ROGER 294 

XVIL— RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE     .        .        .315 

XVIIL— MRS.  RICHMOND  REBELS 334 

XIX.— ROGER  SORE  BESET 351 

XX. — BEATRICE  LOSES 367 

XXI.— ROGER  WINS  ....   388 


WHITE   MAGIC 


A    TASTE    FOR    CANDY 

WHEN  Roger  Wade's  Aunt  Bella  died  she  left  him 
forty  thousand  dollars  in  five-per-cent  railway  bonds 
and  six  hundred  and  ninety  acres  of  wilderness  extend 
ing  from  the  outskirts  of  Deer  Spring  village  to  the 
eastern  shore  of  Lake  Wauchong,  in  northern  New  Jer- 
sey.  She  had  contrived  to  quarrel  and  break  with  all 
her  other  relations.  This  was  no  easy  undertaking,  and 
in  its  success  was  a  signal  tribute  to  her  force  of  char- 
acter;  for,  each  and  everyone  of  those  relatives  knew 
of  her  possessions  and  longed  and  hoped  for  them  and 
stood  ready  to  endure,  even  to  welcome,  any  outrage  she 
might  see  fit  to  perpetrate.  Roger  she  had  not  seen  in 
fourteen  years — not  since  he,  a  youth  of  eighteen,  a 
painter  born,  long  and  lean,  with  a  shock  of  black- 
brown  hair  and  dreamy,  gray-brown  eyes,  left  his  na 
tive  Deer  Spring  to  study  in  Paris.  He  and  she  had 
not  communicated,  either  directly  or  indirectly — a  for- 

1 


WHITE   MAGIC 


tunate  circumstance  for  him,  as  several  of  Arabella 
Wade's  bitterest  quarrels  had  begun  and  had  pro 
gressed  to  the  irreparable  breach  altogether  by  mail. 
Besides  not  knowing  him  she  had  but  one  other  reason 
for  choosing  him  as  her  heir:  a  year  before  her  death 
and  a  week  before  her  last  will  she  happened  to  read  on 
the  cable  page  of  a  New  York  newspaper  an  enthusias 
tic  note  about  his  pictures  and  his  success  in  Paris.  So 
the  bonds  and  the  land  went  to  him  instead  of  to  a  mis 
sionary  society. 

Much  American  newspaper  puffery  of  Americans 
abroad  is  sheer  invention,  designed  to  give  us  at  home 
the  pleasing  notion  that  we  are  capturing  the  earth. 
But  this  notice  of  Roger  Wade's  career  had  truth  in  it. 
He  was  doing  extraordinarily  well  for  so  young  a  man. 
His  sense  of  color  and  form  was  lifted  toward  genius 
by  imagination  and  originality.  His  ability  had  no 
handicap  of  cheap  and  petty — and  glaring — eccentric 
ity,  such  as  so  often  enters  into  the  composition  of  an 
original  and  boldly  imaginative  temperament  to  mar  its 
achievement  and  to  retard  the  recognition  of  its  merit. 
Thus  he  speedily  made  a  notable  place  for  himself.  He 
could  count  on  disposing  of  enough  pictures  to  bring 
him  in  fifteen  to  twenty  thousand  francs  a  year;  and 
that  sum  was  about  as  much  as  he,  simple  of  tastes, 
single-hearted  in  devotion  to  his  work  and  indifferent  to 


A    TASTE    FOE    CANDY 


pose  and  pretense,  could  find  time  and  opportunity  to 
spend.  He  knew  that  in  a  few  years  far  more  money 
than  he  needed  would  be  forced  upon  him — a  prospect 
which  he  had  the  good  sense  to  view  with  distrust  when 
he  thought  of  it  at  all.  About  the  only  thing  that  had 
stood  in  his  way  was  his  personal  appearance.  As  one 
of  his  friends — Berthier,  whose  panels  will  be  admired 
so  long  as  the  pale,  mysterious  glories  of  their  elusive 
colors  persist — said  in  a  confidential  moment :  "  Roger, 
you  look  so  much  like  a  man  of  genius  that  it's  hard  to 
believe  you  are  the  real  thing." 

Big  is  the  word  most  nearly  expressing  that  un 
usual  appearance  of  his.  He  was  tall  and  broad  and 
powerful.  His  features  were  large,  bold,  handsome. 
The  dark  coloring  of  skin  and  hair  and  eyes  added  to 
the  impression  of  bigness.  It  was  in  part  a  matter  of 
real  size,  but  only  in  part.  Not  the  most  casual  glance 
could  have  reported  a  judgment  of  mere  bulk.  He 
seemed  big  because  his  countenance,  his  whole  body, 
seemed  an  effort  of  Nature  adequately  to  express  a  big 
nature.  Herbert  Spencer  uttered  about  the  most  su 
perb  compliment  one  human  being  ever  paid  another 
when  he  said  of  George  Eliot  that  she  suggested  "  a 
large  intelligence  moving  freely."  There  was  in  Roger 
Wade  this  quality  of  the  great  bird  high  in  the  blue 
ether  above  the  grime  and  littleness  of  conventional  life. 

3 


WHITE   MAGIC 


His  looks  had  caused  him  more  than  a  little  trouble — of 
which  he  was  not  in  the  least  aware.  For  a  large  part 
of  his  charm  lay  in  his  childlike  unconsciousness  of  him 
self — a  trait  less  rare  in  painters  and  sculptors  than  in 
any  other  class  of  men  of  genius,  probably  because 
their  work  compels  them  to  concentrate  constantly  upon 
persons  and  things  external  and  in  no  way  related  to 
their  own  ego.  Had  Roger  been  physically  vain,  be 
yond  doubt  his  good  looks  would  have  ruined  him.  The 
envy  of  men  and  the  infatuation  of  women  would  have 
made  escape  impossible.  As  it  was,  he  did  his  work, 
ignored  his  enemies,  and  neither  enslaved  nor  was  en 
slaved  by  such  women  as  drifted  into  his  life — and  out 
again.  It  is  fortunate  for  men — especially  for  men  who 
are  striving  for  careers — that  women  are  bred  to  fee 
bleness  of  purpose  and.  much  prefer  being  loved  to  lov 
ing,  being  admired  to  admiring. 

His  long  stay  abroad  and  his  success  there  had 
touched  his  Americanism  only  to  idealize  it.  The  dream 
of  his  life  continued  to  be  building  a  career  at  home. 
He  was  too  able  to  be  given  to  the  fatuities  of  optimism. 
He  had  no  delusions  on  the  subject  of  the  difficulties 
that  would  confront  and  assail  him.  He  had  observed 
that  those  Americans  who  had  the  money  to  buy  pic 
tures  usually  lacked  the  breadth  to  appreciate  their 
own  country,  considered  it  "  crude  and  commercial," 


A    TASTE   FOR    CANDT 


whatever  that  might  mean,  and  preferred  foreign  paint 
ers  and  foreign  subjects.  But,  like  many  another 
American  artist  of  ability,  he  longed  to  have  a  personal 
share  in  bringing  about  the  change  toward  national 
pride  and  confidence  that  must  come  sooner  or  later. 
So,  when  his  aunt  left  him  a  competence,  he  felt  free  to 
engage  in  the  hazardous  American  adventure.  Two 
months  after  he  inherited  his  little  fortune  he  landed  in 
New  York  with  his  Paris  career  a  closed  incident ;  a  few 
days  later  he  was  installed  in  the  old  farmhouse  on  the 
edge  of  his  wilderness  estate  and  within  a  mile  of  the 
post  office  and  railway  station  at  Deer  Spring.  On  a 
hill  near  the  Lake  Wauchong  end  of  his  estate — a  hill 
that  seemed  a  knoll  in  comparison  with  the  steeps  en 
compassing  it  on  all  sides — he  got  the  village  carpenter 
hastily  to  build  for  him  a  house  of  one  large  and  lofty 
room,  admitting  light  freely  by  way  of  big  windows  in 
the  walls  and  an  enormous  skylight  in  the  roof.  Such 
small  impression  as  his  return  made  was  wholly  confined 
to  his  native  Deer  Spring.  There  the  gossip  went  that, 
having  failed  to  make  art  pay,  he  had  come  back  home 
to  "  laze  round  "  and  live  off  his  aunt's  money.  As  he 
had  the  doing  sort  of  man's  aversion  to  discussing  his 
plans,  such  of  the  villagers  as  succeeded  in  drawing  him 
into  lengthier  parley  than  polite  exchange  of  greetings 
heard  nothing  that  contradicted  the  gossip. 

5 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Toward  the  end  of  an  April  afternoon,  not  long 
after  the  studio  was  finished,  Roger  reached  it  in  the 
midst  of  a  tremendous  storm  of  rain  and  wind.  Just 
before  he  gained  the  shelter  of  the  north  wall  a  swoop 
ing  gust  blew  into  his  face  a  heavy  cloud  of  wood 
smoke;  so  when  he  strode  in  he  was  not  altogether  un 
prepared  for  the  sight  that  met  his  eyes  as  he  dashed 
the  water  and  smoke  out  of  them.  A  fire  had  been  built 
with  generous  hands  in  the  fireplace  in  the  south  wall. 
Upon  the  long,  low  bench  parallel  with  the  outer  edge 
of  the  broad  hearth  lay  the  intruder  who  had  doubtless 
sought  the  one  refuge  within  a  radius  of  a  mile  when  the 
storm  came  on  suddenly  about  half  an  hour  before. 
Roger  had  assumed  he  would  find  a  man ;  but  he  was  not 
much  surprised  to  see  that  it  was  a  woman  for  whom  his 
roof  was  doing  this  good  turn. 

As  he  divested  himself  of  dripping  hat  and  water 
proof  he  said  genially :  "  I'm  glad  you  made  yourself  at 
home!" 

No  answer  came  and  the  figure  did  not  move.  He 
flung  his  wraps  on  one  of  the  heavy  plain  chairs  which, 
with  the  bench,  were  all  the  furniture  he  had — or 
wanted.  He  advanced  to  a  corner  of  the  hearth  to  take 
a  look  at  his  guest.  She  was  a  girl — a  young  girl, 
sound  asleep.  Her  head  was  comfortably  pillowed  on 
one  slim,  round  arm  and  her  folded  jacket.  Her  sweet, 

6 


A    TASTE   FOR    CANDY 

healthily  delicate  face  was  toward  the  fire,  and  flushed 
from  its  warmth.  She  had  abundant  yellow  hair,  long 
lashes  somewhat  darker,  a  charming,  determined  mouth, 
a  very  fair  skin.  With  such  a  skin  a  woman  far  less 
well-favored  otherwise  than  she  could  have  felt  secure 
against  any  verdict  of  homeliness.  His  trained  eyes 
told  him  that  she  was  above  the  medium  height  and  that 
her  figure  was  good,  arms  and  legs  and  body  well- 
formed  and  in  proper  proportion  to  one  another.  She 
had — in  texture  of  skin,  in  look  of  the  hair,  of  the  hands 
— those  small  but  unmistakable  indications  that  she  had 
been  brought  up  secure  from  labor  and  from  those  fret- 
tings  and  worryings  about  the  fundamental  necessities 
of  life  that  react  so  early  and  so  powerfully  upon  the 
bodies  of  the  masses  of  mankind.  Even  her  dress  gave 
this  indication  of  elevation  above  the  common  lot, 
though  the  felt  hat  pinned  carelessly  on  her  head,  the 
plain  shirtwaist,  the  blue  serge  short  skirt,  the  leather 
leggings  and  shoes  had  all  been  through  hard  wear. 
There  are  ways  and  ways  of  growing  old;  the  way  of 
expensive  garments  is  as  different  from  the  way  of 
cheap  garments  as  the  way  of  expensively  nourished 
bodies  is  from  that  of  bodies  poorly  supplied  with  poor 
food. 

He  stood  for  several  minutes,  enjoying  the  engag 
ing  spectacle — enjoying  it  both  as  artist  and  as  man. 

7 


WHITE  MAGIC 


Then  he  went  to  the  huge  closet  in  the  west  wall  where 
he  kept,  under  strong  lock,  everything  of  value  he  had 
to  have  at  the  studio.  He  changed  his  boots  for  shoes. 
He  took  out  and  opened  a  collapsible  table.  Having 
noiselessly  set  upon  it  pots  and  dishes,  including  an 
alcohol  stove  and  two  cups  and  saucers,  he  proceeded  to 
make  chocolate.  When  it  was  nearly  ready  he  opened  a 
package  of  biscuit  and  filled  a  plate  with  them.  All  this 
•with,  the  expertness  of  the  old,  experienced  bachelor 
housekeeper.  He  moved  the  table  over  to  the  hearth, 
to  the  corner  nearer  her  feet,  and  seated  himself.  Luck 
was  with  him.  Hardly  had  he  got  settled  when  her  eyes 
— gray  eyes — opened.  She  saw  the  table,  the  steaming 
pot  of  chocolate*  She  raised  herself  on  her  elbow — sa^ 
him.  He  met  her  amazed  stare  with  a  smile  wholly  free 
from  impertinence. 

"  The  chocolate  is  ready,"  said  he.  "  I  have  no  tea.- 
You  see,  I  didn't  know  you  were  coming.'*  His  voice 
carried  the  humorous  suggestion  of  old  and  intimate 
friendship,  of  a  conversation  continued  after  a  brief 
Interruption, 

She  brushed  her  hand  over  her  eyes,  stared  at  him 
again,  this  time  a  little  wildly.  His  -  expression — the 
kind  eyes^  the  mouth  with,  no  suggestion  of  cruelty  or 
guile*  the  smile  of  friendliness  without  familiarity — rer 
assured  her  straightway.  A  merry  smile  drifted  over; 

8 


A    TASTE    FOR    CAXDY 


her  features — charming,  pretty  features,  though  not 
beautiful.  "  You  know  I  detest  tea,"  said  she.  "  Be 
sides,  I'm  hungry." 

"  I've  made  enough  for  two  large  cups  apiece,"  he 
assured  her.  "  But  I  had  only  condensed  milk.  It's 
hard  to  get  the  other  kind  in  the  country." 

She  took  the  cup  into  which  he  poured  first,  tasted 
it.  "  Splendid!  "  she  ejaculated. 

"  I've  been  famous  for  my  chocolate  for  years,"  said 
he  complacently. 

"  If  you  weren't  so  vain !  " 

"  Everybody's  vain.  I  have  the  courage  to  speak 
out." 

"  I'm  not  vain,"  replied  she.  "  If  I  were  I  should 
be  embarrassed  at  your  catching  me  like  this."  And  she 
glanced  down  at  her  wrinkled  and  mussy  attire. 

"  Possibly  you  are  so  vain  that  you  don't  care,"  re 
joined  he.  "  You  said  you  were  hungry,  yet  you 
haven't  tried  the  biscuit." 

The  storm  howled  and  moaned  and  clattered  about 
the  house;  the  enormous  fire  poured  out  its  gorgeous 
waves  of  color  and  heat,  flung  a  mysterious  and  fantas 
tic  glow  upon  the  gray-white  canvas  covering  of  the 
rough  walls,  beautified  the  countenance  of  the  huge 
young  man  with  the  shock  of  black-brown  hair  and  of 
the  slim,  fair  girl  with  the  golden-yellow  crown.  And 
2  9 


WHITE   MAGIC 


they  laughed  and  joked,  keeping  up  their  pretense  of 
old  acquaintance  and  drinking  all  the  chocolate  and 
eating  all  the  biscuit. 

"  Such  a  strange  idea  of  yours,  to  live  all  alone  here 
In  this  one  room,"  said  she. 

Roger  did  not  undeceive  her.  "  You  must  admit 
it's  comfortable,"  said  he. 

"  Except — I  don't  see  how  you  sleep." 

He  waved  his  cigarette  toward  the  closet.  "  I  keep 
everything  put  away  in  there,"  he  explained.  "  As  for 
my  bath — the  tub's  only  half  a  mile  away — Lake  Wau- 
chong." 

She  looked  thoughtfully  at  him.  "  Yes — you  would 
need  a  good-sized  tub,"  said  she.  He  saw  that  she  was 
full  of  curiosity,  but  did  not  wish  to  break  the  spell  of 
their  fiction  of  old  friendship.  "  What  are  you  doing 
now  ?  "  she  asked — the  careless  inquiry  of  an  old  friend 
after  a  brief  separation. 

"  Same  thing — always,"  said  he. 

"  That's  good,"  said  she,  and  both  laughed.  She 
looked  round  carefully,  noted  the  skylight,  the  canvas 
drapery,  finally  a  broken  easel  flung  into  a  corner. 
"  How  does  the  painting  go?  "  inquired  she,  in  her  eyes 
a  demand  for  admiration  of  her  cleverness. 

"  Oh,  so-so,"  replied  he  with  a  glance  at  the  big 
skylight,  then  at  the  broken  easel,  to  indicate  that  he 

10 


A    TASTE   FOR   CANDY 


did  not  regard  her  display  of  detective  talent  as  over 
whelming. 

"  It's  a  shame  you've  never  painted  me." 

"  You  know  I  wouldn't  touch  portraits,"  rebuked 
he  severely.  "  I  leave  that  to  the  fellows  who  want  to 
make  money." 

"  But  why  not  make  money  ?  "  urged  she.  "  I  rather 
like  money — don't  you  ?  " 

"  I'm  married  to  my  art,"  explained  he.  "  In  mar 
riage  the  only  chance  for  keeping  love  alive  and  warm  is 
poverty.  Show  me  a  rich  artist  and  I'll  show  you  a 
poor  one."  He  spoke  lightly,  but  it  was  evident  that 
he  meant  what  he  said. 

The  girl  was  not  at  all  impressed.  "  You'd  better 
never  fall  in  love,"  laughed  she,  making  a  charming  wry 
face.  "  You'll  not  find  any  woman  who'd  honestly 
marry  you  on  those  terms." 

"  What  a  poor  memory  you  have — for  what  I  say," 
reproached  he.  "  Haven't  I  always  told  you  I  never 
should?" 

"I  remember  perfectly,"  replied  she.  "But  I've 
always  answered  that  you  can't  be  sure." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can,"  said  he,  with  irritating,  challeng 
ing  confidence.  "  As  I  said,  I'm  already  in  love.  And 
I'm  the  most  constant  person  you  ever  knew." 

"  That  doesn't  mean  anything,"  said  she,  looking 
11 


WHITE   MAGIC 


shrewdly  at  him.  And  the  gray  eyes,  with  all  the  soft 
ness  of  sleep  driven  from  them,  were  now  keen  rather 
than  kind.  "  You  are  young,  for  all  your  serious  look ; 
and  you  are  romantic,  I  suppose.  Artists  always  are. 
You  will  fall  in  love." 

"  Not  impossible,"  conceded  he. 

"  And  marry,"  concluded  she,  with  the  air  of  hav 
ing  proved  her  case. 

"  If  I  loved  a  woman  I  wouldn't  marry  her.  If  I 
didn't  love  her  I  couldn't." 

"  That  sounds  like  a  puzzle — a — a  conundrum.  I 
give  it  up.  What's  the  answer  ?  " 

"  I've  lived  in  France  several  years,"  said  he,  "  and 
I've  learned  the  sound  sense  back  of  their  marriage  sys 
tem.  Love  and  marriage  have  nothing  to  do  with  each 
other." 

The  gray  eyes  opened  wide. 

"  Nothing  to  do  with  each  other,"  pursued  he  tran 
quilly.  "  Love  is  all  excitement ;  marriage  ought  to  be 
all  calm.  Marriage  means  a  home — a  family — a  place 
to  bring  up  children  in  peace  and  tranquillity,  a  safe 
harbor.  Love  is  a  Bohemian;  marriage  is  a  bourgeois. 
Love  is  insanity;  marriage  is  sanity.  Love  is  disease; 
marriage  is  solid,  stolid  health." 

"  I  think  those  ideas  are  just  horrid ! "  cried  she. 

He  laughed  at  her  with  his  eyes.     In  a  tone  of  rail- 


A    TASTE    FOR    CAXDY 


lery  he  said :  "  And  you — who  love  money,  you  say — do 
you  intend  to  marry  for  love? — just  love? — only  love?  " 

Her  eyes  shifted.  He  laughed  aloud.  Her  glance 
fell. 

"  Not  a  thought  about  his  income — prospects?  "  he 
mocked. 

She  recovered  from  her  confusion,  laughed  back  at 
him  a  confession  that  she  had  been  fairly  caught  in  a 
refined,  womanly  hypocrisy — woman  being  the  official 
high  priestess  of  the  sentimentalities.  "  But  I  don't 
approve  of  myself — not  in  the  least,"  cried  she.  "  In 
my  better  moments  I'm  ashamed  of  myself." 

"  You  needn't  be,"  said  he  cheerfully.  "  You're 
simply  human.  And  one  need  never  apologize  for  being 
human." 

She  was  gazing  earnestly  into  the  fire.  "  Would 
you — marry  a  girl — say,  for — for  money  ?  "  she  asked. 
And  her  color  was  not  from  the  firelight. 

"  As  I've  told  you,"  replied  he,  "  I  wouldn't  marry 
for  anything — not  even  for  the  girl." 

"  Wouldn't  you  despise  anyone  who  did  such  a 
thing?  "  Still  she  was  avoiding  looking  at  him. 

"  I  don't  despise,"  replied  he.  "  Everyone  of  us 
seeks  that  which  he  most  wants.  I,  who  devote  my  life 
to  my  selfish  passion  for  painting — who  am  I  to  despise 
some  one  else  for  devoting  himself  to  his  passion  for — 

13 


WHITE   MAGIC 


what  you  please — comfort — luxury — snobbishness — no 
matter  what,  so  long  as  it  harms  no  one  else?  " 

"  You  aren't  so  very  old — are  you?  "  said  she  pen 
sively.  "  You  look  and  talk  experienced.  And  yet — I 
don't  believe  you  are  much  older  than  I  am." 

"  A  dozen  years — at  least." 

"  You  aren't  thirty-four !  "  exclaimed  she  in  genuine 
dismay. 

"  No,  but  I'm  thirty-two.  So  you're  ten  years 
younger  than  I.  I  guessed  you  younger  than  you  are.'* 

"  Yes,  I'm  twenty-two.  But  in  our  family  we  hold 
our  own  well — that  is,  mother  does." 

These  discoveries  as  to  age  seemed  to  give  both  the 
liveliest  satisfaction.  Said  he :  "  You  look  younger — 
and  talk  younger." 

"  That's  because  I  don't  make  pretenses.  People 
think  that  anyone  who  is  still  frank  and  simple  must  be 
very  young — and  very  foolish.  .  .  .  I've  been  out  four 
years.  Do  I  seem  ignorant  and  uninteresting  to  you?  " 

"  No — very  frank — nai've." 

She  smiled,  flushed,  glanced  shyly  at  him.  "  Do  you 
know,  I  feel  I  know  you  better  than  I  ever  knew  any 
man  in  my  life — even  my  brothers !  " 

"  Everyone  says  I'm  easy  to  get  acquainted  with," 
said  he,  practical  and  unappreciative. 

She  looked  disappointed,  but  persisted.  "  I  feel 
14 


A    TASTE   FOR    CAXDI 


freer  to  talk  with  you.  I'd  tell  you — anything — the 
things  I  think,  but  never  dare  say." 

"  There  aren't  any  such  things,"  said  he,  hastening 
away  from  the  personal.  "  Anything  one  really  thinks 
one  can't  help  saying." 

"Oh,  that  isn't  a  bit  true,"  cried  she.  "I  think 
lots  of  things  I  don't  dare  say,  just  as  I  want  to  do  lots 
of  things  I  don't  dare  do." 

"  You  imagine  you  think  them,  you  imagine  you 
want  to  do  them,"  he  assured  her.  "  But  really,  what 
you  say  and  do — that  is  your  real  self." 

She  sighed.     "  I  hate  to  believe  so." 

"  Yes.  It  is  unpleasant  to  give  up  the  flattering 
notion  that  our  grand  dreams  are  our  real  selves,  and 
that  our  mean  little  schemes  and  actions  are  just  acci 
dental — or  devil — or  somebody  else  besides  self." 

She  looked  at  him  and  he  was  astonished  to  see  that 
there  were  tears  in  her  eyes.  "  Don't — please !  "  she 
pleaded.  "  Don't  make  it  harder  for  me  to  do  what  I've 
got  to  do." 

"Got  to  do?     Nonsense." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  she,  intensely  in  earnest.  "  Re 
member,  I'm  a  woman.  And  a  woman  has  got  to  do — 
what's  expected  of  her." 

"  So  has  a  man  if  he's  the  weak  sort." 

He  studied  her  with  an  expression  of  sympathy  bor- 
15 


WHITE   MAGIC 


dering  on  pity,  but  without  the  least  condescension ;  on 
the  contrary,  with  a  radiation  of  equality,  of  fellow- 
feeling  that  was  perhaps  his  greatest  charm.  "  Don't 
mind  what  I've  said,"  he  went  on  in  the  kindliest,  friend 
liest  tone.  "  I'm  not  fit  to  talk  with  young  girls.  I've 
got  my  training  altogether  in  a  world  where  there  aren't 
any  young  girls,  but  only  experienced  women  of  one 
kind  and  another.  You've  been  brought  up  to  a  cer 
tain  sort  of  life,  and  the  only  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to 
live  it.  I've  been  talking  the  creed  of  my  sort  of  life, 
and  that's  as  different  from  your  sort  as  wild  duck  from 
domestic." 

He  rose,  gave  a  significant  glance  toward  the  win 
dows  through  which  clear  sky  and  late  afternoon  light 
could  be  seen.  She  felt  rather  than  saw  his  hint,  and 
rose  also.  She  looked  round,  gave  a  queer  little  laugh. 
"  Am  I  awake — or  still  asleep  ?  "  said  she.  "  I'm  not 
feeling — or  talking — or  acting — a  bit  like  my  usual 
self."  She  laughed  again  a  little  cynically.  "  My 
friends  wouldn't  recognize  me."  She  looked  at  him, 
laughed  again,  with  not  a  trace  of  cynicism.  "  I  don't 
recognize  my  present  self,"  she  added.  "  It's  one  that 
never  was  until  I  came  here." 

But  Roger  showed  no  disposition  to  respond  to  her 
coquetry.  He  said  in  matter-of-fact  tones :  "  Do  you 
live  far?  Hadn't  I  better  take  you  home?  " 

16 


A    TASTE    FOR    CANDY 


"  No,  no !  "  she  cried.     "  We  mustn't  spoil  it." 

"Spoil  what?" 

"  The  romance,"  laughed  she. 

He  looked  amused,  like  a  much  older  person  at  a 
child's  whimsicalities.  "  Oh,  I  see !  Once  I  was  in  a 
train  in  the  Alps  bound  for  Paris,  and  it  halted  beside  a 
train  bound  for  Constantinople.  My  window  happened 
to  be  opposite  that  of  a  girl  from  Syria.  We  talked  for 
half  an  hour.  Then — we  shook  hands  as  the  trains 
drew  away  from  each  other.  This  is  to  be  like  that  ?  A 
good  idea." 

She  was  listening  and  observing  with  almost  excited 
interest.  "  Didn't  you  ever  meet  that  Syrian  girl 
again?  "  inquired  she. 

He  laughed  carelessly,  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"  Yes — unfortunately." 

The  girl's  face  became  shadowed.  "  You  loved 
her?" 

His  frank,  boyish  eyes  twinkled  good-humored 
mockery  at  her  earnestness.  "  As  you  see,  I  survived," 
said  he. 

She  frowned  at  him.  "  You're  very  disappointing," 
said  she.  "  You're  not  a  bit  romantic — are  you?  " 

"  I  save  it  all  for  my  painting." 

She  laughingly  put  out  her  hand.  They  shook 
hands  ;  he  accompanied  her  to  the  door.  She  said :  "  I'd 

17 


WHITE   MAGIC 


like  to  have  a  name  to  remember  you  by."  And  she 
looked  at  him  with  candid  and  friendly  admiration  for 
his  handsome  bigness.  "  Not  your  real  name.  That 
wouldn't  be  a  bit  romantic — and,  as  you  see,  I'm  crazy 
about  romance."  She  sighed.  "  Probably  because  I 
never  get  any.  Don't  laugh  at  me.  You  can't  under 
stand  my  taste  for  candy,  because  with  you — -it's  been 
like  keeping  a  confectionery  shop." 

"  Yes — that's  true,"  said  he,  looking  at  her  with  a 
new  and  more  personal  friendliness  of  sympathy. 

"  So,"  said  she,  with  a  wistful  smile,  "  give  me  a 
name." 

He  reflected.  "  You  might  call  me  Chang.  That 
was  my  nickname  at  school." 

"Chang,"  said  she.  "Chang."  She  nodded  ap 
provingly.  "  I  like  it.  ...  They  called  me  Rix  before 
I  came  out." 

"  Then — good-by,  Rix.  Thank  you  for  a  charm 
ing  hour." 

"  Good-by,  Chang,"  she  said,  with  a  forced  little 
smile  and  pain  in  her  eyes.  "  Thank  you  for — the  fire 
and  the  chocolate — and — "  She  hesitated. 

"  Don't  forget  the  biscuit." 

"  Oh,  yes.    And  for  the  biscuit." 

As  she  went  reluctantly  away  he  closed  the  door 
and,  standing  well  back  from  the  window,  watched  her 

18 


A    TASTE   FOR    CANDY 


gracefully  descend  the  slope  of  the  knoll.  Just  as  she 
was  about  to  lose  sight  of  the  little  house  she  turned 
and  looked  back.  She  could  not  have  seen  him,  so  far 
back  was  he;  but  she  waved  her  hand  and  smiled  pre 
cisely  as  if  he  were  in  plain  view,  waving  at  her. 


II 

THE    PAINTER    GETS    A    MODEL 

LAKE  WAUCHONG  is  the  crowning  charm  of  that 
whole  north  New  Jersey  wilderness,  rich  though  its 
variety  is — watercourses  hard  to  equal  in  sheer  loveli 
ness;  lonely  mountains  from  whose  steeps  look  majesty 
and  awe;  stretches  of  stony  desolation  and  of  gloomy, 
bittern-haunted  swamp  that  seem  the  fitting  borderland 
of  an  inferno.  At  the  southwestern  end  of  the  lake  it 
receives  the  waters  of  a  creek  by  way  of  a  small  cata 
ract.  In  the  spring,  especially  in  the  early  spring, 
when  there  is  most  water  on  the  cataract  and  when  the 
foliage  is  at  its  freshest,  most  exquisite  green,  the  early 
morning  sunbeams  make  of  that  little  corner  of  the  lake 
a  sort  of  essence  and  epitome  of  the  lovely  childhood  of 
Nature. 

On  the  next  morning  but  one  after  the  adventure 
of  the  studio  in  the  storm,  Roger  was  industriously 
sketching  in  a  view  of  this  cataract,  his  canvas  on  an 
easel  before  which  he  was  standing — he  always  stood  at 
his  work.  Across  his  range  of  vision  shot  a  canoe,  a 
girl  kneeling  in  it  and  wielding  the  paddle  with  expert 

20 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

F  ^-UDH^nBKMOBlMMaHBBaBMH^Bl^BBIBBMKaCMBaKMiMB^El^H^^B^BHlBaB^B^^MKBBMMaKKK 

grace.  He  instantly  recognized  her.  "  Hello !  "  he 
called  out  friendlily — after  a  curiously  agitated  moment 
of  confusion  and  recovery. 

She  turned  her  head,  smiled.  With  a  single  skillful 
dip  she  rounded  the  canoe  so  that  it  shot  to  the  shore 
within  a  few  feet  of  where  he  stood.  "  Good  morning, 
Chang,"  said  she.  "  Did  you  miss  me  at  tea — or, 
rather,  chocolate — yesterday  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  expect  you,"  replied  he. 

"  You  didn't  invite  me." 

"That  was  ill-mannered,  wasn't  it?  But,  no — I 
forgot.  We  said  good-by  forever,  didn't  we?  Well,  it 
was  safer  to  prepare  for  the  worst  in  a  world  as  uncer 
tain  as  this.  Aren't  you  rather  early?" 

She  looked  a  little  confused.  "  I'm  very  energetic 
for  the  first  few  days  after  I  get  to  the  country,"  she 
explained.  "  Besides,  I'm  dreadfully  restless  of  late. 
.  .  .  Are  you  working?  " 

"  I  was." 

'  "  Oh — I'm  disturbing  you."  She  made  a  movement 
to  push  off.  He  smiled  in  a  noncommittal  way,  but  said 
nothing.  She  did  not  conceal  her  discontent  with  treat 
ment  of  a  kind  to  which  she  apparently  was  not  used. 
"  You  might  at  least  have  the  politeness  to  say  no.  I'd 
not  take  advantage  of  it,"  said  she — a  rebuke  for  his 
rudeness  in  her  raillery. 


WHITE  MAGIC 


"  1  was  debating  something.  ...  I  need  you  in  my 
picture.  But  posing  is  tiresome  work." 

She  brightened.  "  I'd  be  glad  to.  Will  you  let  me? 
I  do  so  wish  to  be  of  some  use.  How  long  would  it 
take?" 

"  Not  long — that  is,  not  long  any  one  morning," 
was  his  apologetic  assurance. 

"  You  mean  —  several  mornings  ? "  said  she,  a 
mingling  of  longing  and  hesitation  in  her  expressive 
features. 

"  I  work  slowly."  The  more  he  considered  the  mat 
ter  the  more  necessary  she  seemed  to  his  picture.  His 
artist's  selfishness  was  aroused.  "  I'm  sure  you'd  not 
mind,"  said  he,  deliberately  using  a  tone  that  would 
make  refusal  difficult,  ungracious. 

A  curious  strained  expression  came  into  her  eyes  as 
she  reflected.  "  I — I — don't  know  what  to  say." 

"  You  think  I'm  asking  heavy  pay  for  my  hospi 
tality?" 

"  No — no,  indeed,"  protested  she  earnestly.  "  I 
can't  tell  you  what  I  was  thinking." 

The  more  he  considered  the  idea  the  apparition  of 
her  in  that  graceful  posture  in  the  canoe  had  suggested 
the  more  it  seemed  an  inspiration.  He  was  regarding 
her  now  with  the  artist's  eye  only.  She  leaned  on  her 
paddle,  lost  in  reverie ;  the  look  of  the  self-satisfied,  over- 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

petted  American  girl  faded  from  her  face;  the  sun 
beams  flung  a  golden  glamour  over  her  yellow  hair  and 
her  delicate  skin.  He  saw  alluring  possibilities  of  ideal 
izing  her  face  into  the  center  and  climax  of  the  dreamy 
romance  he  was  going  to  try  to  make  of  his  first  Amer 
ican  picture.  His  original  impulse  to  get  rid  of  her 
as  a  useless,  perhaps  disquieting  intruder  had  gone 
altogether.  He  was  resolved  to  have  this  providential 
model.  "  I  don't  want  to  be  disagreeable,"  said  he, 
"  but  I  really  need  you.  It'd  be  a — a  service  to  " — he 
smiled—"  to  art." 

She  seemed  not  to  hear.  Presently  she  compressed 
her  lips,  looked  at  him  defiantly — a  strange  look  that 
somehow  disquieted  him  for  an  instant.  "  Where  do 
you  want  me  to  put  myself  ?  "  she  asked,  stepping  into 
the  canoe. 

They  spent  half  an  hour  in  trying  various  positions 
and  poses  before  he  got  just  what  he  wanted.  His  im 
personal  way  of  treating  her,  his  frank  comments,  some 
of  them  flattering,  others  the  reverse,  amused  her  im 
mensely.  But  he  was  as  unconscious  of  her  amusement 
as  of  her  personality  or  his  own.  She  obeyed  him  with 
out  a  protest,  patiently  held  the  pose  he  asked — held  it 
full  fifteen  minutes.  He  had  a  way — the  way  of  the 
man  who  knows  what  he  is  about — that  inspired  her 
with  respect  and  made  her  feel  she  was  at  something 

23 


WHITE   MAGIC 


worth  while.  "  That'll  do  beautifully,"  he  said  at  last. 
"  You  must  be  tired." 

"  I  can  stand  it  a  while  longer,"  she  assured  him. 

"  Not  a  second.  I've  enough  for  to-day.  And  I 
don't  want  to  frighten  you  off.  I  mustn't  tempt  you 
to  leave  me  in  the  lurch — disappear — never  show  up 
again." 

"  I've  promised,"  said  she.  "  I'll  .keep  my  word. 
Besides" — she  flushed,  with  eyes  sparkling;  her  smile 
was  merry,  but  embarrassed — "  I'm  not  doing  this  for 
nothing." 

"We  haven't  talked  business  yet,  have  we?"  said 
he,  not  a  bit  embarrassed.  "  You  can  have  anything 
you  like,  within  reason." 

She  laughed  at  him.  "  I  want  more  than  money.  I 
want  your  valuable  time.  In  exchange  for  my  services 
as  model  you  must  amuse  me.  I'm  lonely  and  bored — 
and  full  of  things  I  want  to  forget." 

"  How  much  amusement  per  pose?  "  said  he. 

"  Oh — I  shan't  be  hard.     Say — an  hour." 

"  The  bargain's  closed." 

She  paddled  ashore,  seated  herself  on  a  log  a  short 
distance  before  him,  and  rested  while  he  filled  in  his 
notes.  He  glanced  at  her  after  a  few  minutes,  was 
about  to  speak ;  instead  he  gave  a  grunt  of  satisfaction, 
fell  to  sketching  her  face;  for  the  thoughts  that  were 


THE   PAIXTER    GETS    A    MODEL 

gilding  her  reverie  gave  her  features  precisely  the  ex 
pression  of  exalted,  ethereal  longing  which  he  wished 
to  put  into  the  face  in  his  picture.  He  worked  fever 
ishly,  hoping  she  would  not  move  and  dissolve  the  spell 
until  he  had  what  he  needed — enough  to  fix  that  ex 
pression. 

A  quarrel  between  two  robins  over  a  worthless  twig 
which  neither  wanted  startled  her,  drove  the  spiritual 
look  from  her  features. 

"  But  I  got  it,"  said  he.     "  Thank  you." 

She  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

"  You've  given  me  a  second  sitting — much  better, 
because  you  didn't  realize  it." 

"May  I  see?" 

His  sudden  alarm  revealed  the  profoundly  modest 
man,  uneasy  about  the  merits  of  his  unfinished  work. 
"Not  yet,"  said  he  positively.  "Wait  till  there's 
something  to  look  at." 

"  Very  well,"  she  acquiesced. 

A  certain  note  in  her  voice  made  him  laugh.  "  You 
don't  care  in  the  least  about  the  picture — do  you?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  protested  she.  But  the  attempt  to 
conceal  his  having  hit  upon  the  truth  was  far  from  suc 
cessful.  She  realized  it  herself.  "  I  care  only  about 
the  pay,"  confessed  she. 

"  We  can  talk  while  I  work,  now." 
3  25 


WHITE   MAGIC 


She  protested.  "  No,  that  isn't  honest.  I  gave  you 
my  whole  attention.  You  must  pay  in  the  same  way. 
You  must  do  your  best  to  amuse  me." 

"Well?" 

"  Come  here,  and  sit  on  this  log." 

He  obeyed.  "  You  deserve  better  pay,"  said  he. 
"  I  never  had  a  professional  model  who  behaved  so 
well." 

"  Do  you  know,  I  never  did  anything  so  obediently 
in  my  whole  life,"  declared  she.  "  I  don't  understand 
myself."  There  was  seriousness  behind  the  mirth  in 
the  glance  she  flung  at  him.  "  I'm  a  little  afraid  of 
you.  I  half  believe  you  hypnotize  me.  You — seem  to 
— to  put  to  sleep  my  ordinary,  every-day  self  and  to 
wake  up  one  that's  usually  asleep — one  I've  only  known 
— until — until  recently — as  a — a  sort  of  troublesome 
ghost  that  haunts  me  from  time  to  time." 

He,  thinking  of  his  picture,  was  only  half  attending 
to  her.  "  But  you'll  marry  the  man  with  the  money, 
all  right,"  said  he  absently. 

She  startled.  "  How  did  you  know?  "  she  demand 
ed.  "  Have  you  found  out  who  I  am  ?  " 

"  Certainly.  You're  Rix,  model  to  Chang.  .  .  . 
No,  I  was  joking.  I  know  only  what  you  told  me  yes 
terday — or,  rather,  what  you  enabled  me  to  guess." 

"  And  you  approve  of  my  marrying — that  way  ?  " 
26 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

"  I'd  hardly  be  guilty  of  the  impertinence  of  either 
approving  or  disapproving." 

"  Frankness  wouldn't  be  impertinence — between 
you  and  me.  At  least,  that's  the  way  I  feel  about  it. 
Do  you  really  approve  of — of  marriage  for — for  other 
reasons  than  love  ?  " 

"  Heartily." 

A  long  silence.  Then  she,  with  an  effort :  "  When 
I  got  back  home  night  before  last  all  that  happened  up 
there  seemed  unreal — absolutely  unreal — like  a  dream." 

"Even  the  biscuit  and  the  chocolate?" 

"  Even  you,"  she  replied. 

Her  tone  made  his  wandering  attention  concentrate, 
made  him  glance  swiftly  at  her. 

She  smiled.  "  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  she.  "  There's 
not  the  slightest  cause." 

"Sure?"  inquired  he  jestingly.  "You  see,  I'm 
not  used  to  young  girls — American  girls.  You  talk  so 
freely.  If  I  weren't  an  American  I'd  misunderstand." 

"  What  would  it  matter  if  you  did  ?  "  retorted  she. 

"  To  be  sure — it  wouldn't  matter  at  all,"  he  ad 
mitted.  "  Do  go  on." 

"  If  it  weren't  that  my  knowing  you — this  way — 
would  always  seem  unreal — not  at  all  a  part  of  life — 
I'd  not  dare  come.  Now,  don't  misunderstand.  That 
doesn't  mean  I'm  falling  in  love  with  you — at  least,  I 

27 


WHITE   MAGIC 


don't  think  it  does."  Dreamily — "  No,  I  don't  think 
so." 

"  Depressing,"  said  he,  with  an  awkward  attempt 
at  humor.  He  did  not  like  these  frank  personalities 
1  from  his  model — these  alarming  skirtings  of  the  sub 
ject  he  wished  to  discuss  or  consider  with  no  woman. 
It  was  interesting,  refreshingly  interesting,  this  un 
heard-of,  direct  way  of  dealing  with  a  matter  invari 
ably  ignored  by  an  unmarried,  marriageable  girl — that 
is,  so  far  as  his  experience  went,  it  was  ignored — but, 
perhaps,  in  the  America  growing  up  during  his  ab 
sence — yes,  this  interesting  audacity  was  disquieting. 

"  No — I've  thought  it  out  carefully,  Chang,"  pur 
sued  she.  "  I'm  not  afraid  of  falling  in  love  with  you. 
It's  simply  that  what  you  are — what  you  stand  for — 
appeals  to  my  other  self — the  self  I'm  soon  going  to 
wrap  in  a  shroud  and  lay  in  a  grave — forever.  .  .  . 
Coming  here  is  a  kind  of  dissipation  for  me.  But  I 
shan't  lose  control  of  myself."  She  nodded  positively, 
and  there  was  a  shrewd  flash  in  her  eyes. 

"  I'll  back  you  up,"  said  he.  "  So  you  needn't 
worry.  Falling  in  love  is  entirely  out  of  my  line." 

He  saw  that  she  had  no  more  belief  in  this  than  the 
next  woman  would  have  had.  For,  little  though  he 
knew  about  women — the  realities  as  to  women,  the  in 
tricacies  of  women — he  had  not  failed  to  learn  that 

28 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

every  young  or  youngish  woman  regards  herself  as  an 
expert  at  compelling  men  to  love,  as  a  certain  victor 
whenever  she  cares  to  exert  herself  to  win.  "  You  have 
your  career,  I  mine,"  he  went  on.  "  They  have  noth 
ing  in  common.  So  we  needn't  waste  time  worrying 
about  impossibilities." 

"  That's  true,"  exclaimed  she  with  enthusiasm. 

He  changed  the  subject  to  safer  things,  acting  as 
if  the  whole  matter  of  their  relations  were  settled.  But, 
in  reality,  he  was  profoundly  disturbed.  If  the  scheme 
of  his  picture  had  not  taken  such  firm  hold  upon  him — 
the  hold  that  compels  an  artist,  in  face  of  any  debt  to 
consequences,  however  heavy — he  would  have  contrived 
to  rid  himself  of  her  that  day  for  good  and  all.  He 
had  had  too  many  adventures  not  to  know  the  dangers 
filling  the  woodland  in  the  springtime  for  a  young  man 
and  a  young  woman  with  no  one  to  interrupt.  He  did 
not  like  his  own  interest  in  her ;  he  was  little  reassured 
by  her  explanations  as  to  her  interest  in  him,  though 
he  told  himself  he  must  be  careful  not  to  judge  Ameri 
can  girls  by  foreign  standards.  But  the  picture  must 
be  made,  and  she  was  indispensable. 

The  bright  weather  held  for  several  days.  Every 
morning  artist  and  model  met  near  the  cascade  and 
worked  and  talked  alternately  until  toward  lunch  time. 

29 


WHITE   MAGIC 


She  came  earlier  and  earlier,  until  it  was  hardly  six 
when  her  canoe  shot  round  the  bend  which  divided  off 
that  end  of  the  lake  into  a  little  bay.  He  was  always 
there  before  her.  "  Do  you  spend  the  night  here?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Why,  this  is  late  for  me,"  he  replied.  "  I  have 
breakfast  before  sunrise  and  go  up  to  the  studio  for 
an  hour's  work  before  I  come  down  here.  You  see, 
light — sunlight — is  all-important  with  me.  So  I  go 
to  bed  with  the  chickens." 

"You  don't  live  at  the  studio?"  Then  she  red 
dened  and  hastily  cried :  "  No — don't  answer.  I  for- 
got." 

At  her  suggestion  they  had  been  careful  about  let 
ting  slip  things  that  might  betray  their  identity  in  the 
outside  world.  This  had  become  a  fetich  with  them,  as 
if  betrayal  would  break  the  charm  and  end  their  friend 
ship.  "  I  never  had  anything  like  a  romance  in  my 
life  before,"  she  had  said.  "  I  suppose  I  seem  very 
silly  to  you,  but  I  want  to  do  the  best  I  can  with  this. 
You'll  humor  me,  won't  you  ?  "  And  he  agreed,  with 
a  superior  smile  at  her  folly — a  smile  not  nearly  so  sin 
cere  as  he  fancied,  for,  like  all  men  of  his  stamp,  he  was 
still  the  boy  and  would  be  all  his  life. 

Though  she  came  earlier  she  lingered  later;  once 
it  was  noon  before  she  slowly  paddled  away  in  her 

30 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

graceful  canoe  with  its  high,  curved  ends.  His  un 
easiness  about  what  was  going  on  in  her  head  ended 
with  her  second  visit;  for  she  did  not  again  speak  of 
personal  things  and  treated  him  in  a  charming,  com- 
radelike  fashion  that  would  have  quieted  the  suspicions 
of  a  greater  egotist  than  he.  She  made  him  do  most 
of  the  talking — about  painting  and  sculpture,  about 
books  and  plays — the  men  he  had  known  in  Paris — 
about  his  curious  or  amusing  experiences  in  out-of-the- 
way  parts  of  Europe.  It  was  flattering  to  have  such 
a  pretty  listener,  one  so  tireless,  so  interested;  her 
many  questions,  the  changes  in  her  expressive  counte 
nance,  the  subtle  sense  of  the  sympathetic  she  radiated, 
were  all  proof  convincing  of  her  eagerness  to  hear,  of 
her  delight  in  what  she  heard. 

After  many  days — not  so  very  many,  either — when 
their  friendship  was  well  into  the  stage  of  intimacy, 
she  began  to  try  to  draw  him  out  on  the  subject  of 
women.  At  first  she  went  about  it  adroitly — and  an 
adroiter  cross-examiner  never  put  questions  seemingly 
more  trivial  in  tones  seemingly  more  careless  or  lay 
in  wait  behind  eyes  seemingly  more  innocent.  But  she 
set  her  traps  in  vain.  Of  the  love  affairs  of  other  men 
he  would  talk,  taking  even  more  than  the  necessary  care 
to  avoid  things  a  young  girl  was  supposed  not  to  know 
or  understand.  Of  his  own  love  affairs  he  would  say 

31 


WHITE   MAGIC 


nothing — not  a  hint,  not  so  much  as  a  suggestion  that 
romance  had  ever  gladdened  his  youth.  That  chance 
allusion  to  the  mysterious  Syrian  woman  was  his  first 
and  last  indiscretion,  if  anything  so  vague  could  be 
called  an  indiscretion.  So,  she  abandoned  the  tactics 
of  guile  and  attacked  him  frankly. 

"  You  certainly  are  trustworthy,"  said  she.  "  You 
have  a  wonderful  sense  of  honor." 

"  What's  this  about?  "  inquired  he,  ignorant  of  her 
train  of  thought. 

"  About  women,"  explained  she. 

"  Oh,  about  women,"  repeated  he.  "  It's  time  to  be 
gin  work  again." 

"  Not  for  twenty  minutes.  You  kept  me  at  it  ten 
minutes'  overtime — and  you  agreed  I  was  to  have 
double  pay  for  overtime." 

He  sat  down  again,  a  little  cross. 

"  As  I  was  saying,"  pursued  she,  "  you  never  talk 
about  yourself  and  women — except  the  Syrian  girl. 
Were  you  terribly  in  love  with  her  ?  " 

"  That's  been  so  long  ago.     I  don't  recall " 

"  I'm  sure  she  was  crazy  about  you — and  that  you 
got  tired  of  her — and  broke  her  heart 

He  laughed.  "  She's  married  to  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  she  weighs  a  ton.  They've  got  a  rug  shop  and  how 
they  do  swindle  rich  Americans !  Did  I  ever  tell  you 

32 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

about  how  two  men  in  Paris  bought  a  rug  for  eleven 
thousand  francs  and  sold  it  to  an  American  for " 

"  Why  do  you  always  dodge  away  ?  Are  you  really 
a  woman  hater  ?  " 

"  Not  I.     Just  the  reverse." 

"  And  you've  been  in  love  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed." 

Her  smile  kept  bravely  on,  but  her  tone  wasn't  quite 
the  same  as  she  said,  "  Really  in  love?  " 

"  Madly.     Lots  of  times." 

"  I  don't  mean  that.  I  mean  once — the  once.  I 
somehow  feel  that  you've  had  a  great  love  in  your  life 
— a  love  that  has  saddened  you — has  made  you  put 
women  out  of  your  life." 

He  was  laughing  frankly  at  her.  "  What  a  roman 
cer  you  are,"  cried  he.  "  It's  very  evident  that  you've 
had  no  experience.  If  you  had,  you'd  know  that  isn't 
the  way  of  love  at  all.  Anyone  who  can  catch  it  once 
can  catch  it  any  number  of  times.  It's  a  disease,  I  tell 
you.  You  want  to  faU  in  love  and  you  proceed  to  do  it, 
taking  whoever  happens  to  be  convenient." 

This  seemed  to  content  her.  "  I  see  you've  never 
been  in  love,"  said  she.  "  You've  simply  had  experience. 
I  like  that.  I  hate  a  man  who  hasn't  had  experience. 
Not  that  I  ever  thought  you  hadn't — no,  indeed.  In 
the  first  five  minutes  I  knew  you  I  said  to  myself, 

33 


WHITE   MAGIC 


6  Here's  a  man  who  has  been  over  the  road.'  I  could 
tell  by  the  way  you  took  hold." 

"Took  hold!"  cried  he. 

"  That's  it — took  hold — made  me  like  you — made 
me  interested  in  you." 

He  looked  uncomfortable — glanced  at  his  watch. 

"  Oh,  so  much  has  happened  to  you.  And  nothing 
has  ever  happened  to  me — nothing  but  this,"  she 
sighed. 

"  But  this !  "  laughed  he.  "  Don't  you  call  it  some 
thing — to  be  clandestinely  an  artist's  model?  Think 
how  horrified  your  prim,  proper,  pious  people  would 
be  if  they  knew !  " 

"  What  kind  of  people  do  you  think  I  come  from?  " 
she  inquired,  gazing  at  him  quizzically. 

"  That's  tabooed,"  he  answered.  "  I've  never  specu 
lated  about  it.  When  your  canoe  rounds  that  bend 
yonder  I  never  follow.  You  begin  and  end  at  the 
bend." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  wondering,"  mused 
she.  "  I  wonder  a  great  deal  about  you.  Not  that  I 
want  to  know.  I'd  rather  wonder — fancy  it  as  I  please 
— differently  every  day.  You  see,  I  haven't  much  to 
think  about — much  that's  interesting.  Honestly,  don't 
you  wonder — at  all — about  me?  " 

"  I've  always  been  that  way  about  my  friends,"  re- 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

plied  he,  and  went  on  to  explain  sincerely :  "  They  in 
terest  me  only  as  they  appear  to  me.  Why  should  I 
bother  about  what  they  are  to  other  people — people 
I  don't  know  and  don't  care  to  know?  " 

"  Isn't  that  strange !  "  mused  she.  "  Do  you  really 
mean  it?"  She  blushed,  hastily  added:  "Of  course, 
I  know  you  mean  it.  You  mustn't  mind  my  saying 
that.  You  see,  the  people  I  know  are  entirely  different. 
That's  why  I  feel  this  is  all — unreal — a  dream.  .  .  . 
You  honestly  don't  care  about  wealth — and  social  po 
sition — and  all  that?  Not  a  bit?  " 

"  Why  should  I?  "  said  he  indifferently.  "  It  isn't 
in  my  game — and  one  cares  only  about  the  things  that 
are  in  his  game." 

"  That  other  game — it  seems  a  very  poor  sort  to 
you,  doesn't  it?" 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  does.  It  seems  so  to  me,  whenever 
I'm — here — and  even  when  I'm  not  here." 

"Why  bother  about  such  things?"  said  he  in  the 
tone  that  indicates  total  lack  of  interest. 

After  a  pause  she  said :  "  You  may  not  believe  it, 
but  I'm  a  frightful  snob — out  there." 

"  But  not  here.  There's  nothing  here  to  be  snob 
about— thank  God !  " 

"  Yes — I'm  as  different  as  possible — out  there," 
35 


WHITE   MAGIC 


she  went  on.  "  There  are  people  I  detest  whom  I'm 
sweet  to  because  of  what  they  are  socially.  I'm  like 
the  rest  of  the  girls — crazy  about  social  position  and 
fond  of  snubbing  people — and " 

"  Don't  tell  me  about  it,"  he  interrupted  gently, 
but  with  an  expression  in  his  straight,  honest  eyes  that 
made  her  blush  and  hang  her  head.  "  I'm  sorry  for 
what  you  are  when  the  black  magician  who  rules  be 
yond  the  bend  takes  possession  of  you.  But  what  he 
does  to  you  doesn't  change  what  the  white  magic  makes 
of  you  here." 

Her  eyes,  her  whole  face  lighted  up.  "  The  white 
magic,"  she  repeated  softly.  After  a  brief  reverie  she 
came  back  to  the  subject  and  went  on-,  "  I  told  you  be 
cause  I — I'm  ashamed  to  be  a  fraud  with  you.  ...  I 
wonder  if  you're  really  as  big  and  honest  as  you  seem? 
Nobody  is — out  there.  They're  mean  and  petty! — 
when  you  see  through  what  they  pretend  to  be — pre 
tend  even  to  themselves.  I'm  just  as  big  a  fraud  as  the 
rest.  And  I  often  convince  myself  I'm  sweet  and  good 
and —  If  I  could  only — "  There  she  stopped,  leav 
ing  her  wish  unexpressed  but  easy  to  imagine. 

"  The  way  to  keep  the  little  things  out  is  to  fill 
one's  mind  with  the  big  things,"  said  he.  "  But  you're 
not  to  blame  for  being  what  your  surroundings 
compel." 

36 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

"Do  you  think  I  could  be  different?"  she  asked, 
waiting  in  a  sort  of  breathlessness  for  his  answer. 

"  I've  not  thought  about  it,"  was  his  depressing 
answer.  "  Offhand  I  should  say  not.  You're  at  the 
age  when  almost  everybody  does  a  little  thinking.  But 
that'll  soon  stop,  and  you'll  be  what  you  were  molded 
to  be  from  babyhood." 

"  I  know  I  don't  amount  to  much,"  said  she  humbly. 
"  Out  there-T— under  the  black  magic — I'm  vain  and 
proud.  But  here — I  feel  I'm  just  nothing." 

"  You're  a  superb  model,"  said  he  consolingly. 
"  Really— superb." 

"  Please  don't  mock  at  me.  Honestly,  don't  you 
think  I'm  commonplace?  " 

He  gave  her  that  fine,  gentle  smile  of  his,  particu 
larly  fine  coming  from  such  a  big,  masculine  sort  of 
man.  And  he  said,  "  Nothing  that  the  sun  shines  on 
is  commonplace." 

She  developed  strong  curiosity  as  to  the  general 
aspects  of  his  affairs — as  to  his  hopes  and  fears  for  the 
future.  Her  efforts  to  draw  him  out  on  these  subjects 
amused  him.  His  frank  confession  that  he  was  un 
known  in  America  threw  her  quite  off  the  track;  it 
never  occurred  to  her  that  he  might  be  known  abroad. 
"  And  you  have  worked  many  years  ?  "  she  said. 

37 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  All  my  life." 

She  looked  tenderly  sympathetic  distress.  "  Doesn't 
your  not  being  recognized  discourage  you?  "  she  said. 

66  Not  a  bit,"  declared  he,  with  every  indication  of 
sincerity.  "  Everything  worth  while  takes  time.  Any 
how,  I  don't  much  care.  My  living  is  secure.  You  see, 
I'm  quite  rich." 

Her  eyes  opened  wide.  "  Rich !  "  she  exclaimed. 
"Really?  Why,  I  thought—"  There  she  halted, 
blushing. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I've  got  forty  thousand — not  to  speak 
of  my  land." 

"  Forty — thousand — a  year !  That's  very  good." 
And  her  face  revealed  that  her  brain  was  busy  and  what 
it  was  busy  about. 

He  laughed  loudly.  "  Forty  thousand  a  year!  "  he 
cried.  "  No — two  thousand  a  year." 

Her  chagrin  was  pitiful.  "  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed 
dismally.  "  I  thought  you  said  you  were  rich." 

"  And  I  am.  Why,  when  I  think  of  how  I  used 
to  live  on  less  than  two  thousand  francs  a  year  I  feel 
like  a  Rothschild."  He  tried  to  keep  his  face  and  his 
tone  serious  as  he  added:  "What's  the  matter?  Why 
do  you  look  so  woe-begone  ?  " 

"  Nothing.  Only —  You  gave  me  such  a  shock ! 
For  a  minute  I  thought  you  were — were  different." 

38 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   ~A    MODEL 

He  took  advantage  of  her  mournful  abstraction  to 
slip  back  to  his  work.  So  absorbed  was  she  that  she 
did  not  observe  how  he  was  "  cheating  "  her,  though  all 
his  other  attempts  to  do  it  had  been  promptly  detected 
and  stopped.  From  time  to  time  he  looked  at  her  and 
puzzled  over  the  cause  of  her  deep  gloom.  Finally  he 
decided  to  interrupt.  A  mischievous  look  came  into 
his  eyes.  He  said :  "  You  thought  of  transferring 
yourself  from  that  other  rich  man  ?  " 

She  was  overwhelmed  with  embarrassment.  Then 
she  met  his  laughing  eyes  with  a  brave  attempt  at 
mockery.  "  Well — I'd  rather  marry  a  rich  man  I 
liked  than  one  I  didn't." 

"  Naturally.  But  forget  about  me,  please.  I'm  not 
a  candidate,  remember."  He  was  glad  of  this  chance 
to  remind  her  of  his  views  as  to  marriage. 

"  Never  fear,"  said  she,  forcing  a  laugh  and  a  look 
of  coquettish  scorn.  "  We're  equally  safe  from  each 
other." 

On  the  eighth  morning  it  began  to  drizzle  at  dawn, 
and  by  the  time  artist  and  model  should  have  been  at 
work  a  heavy,  cold  rain  was  falling.  However,  Chang 
in  his  waterproofs  walked  down  to  the  lake  shore.  He 
had  to  take  a  walk — he  always  took  a  walk — no  matter 
what  the  weather;  why  not  in  that  direction?  As  he 

39 


WHITE   MAGIC 


drew  near  the  cascade  he  was  amazed  to  see  the  canoe 
beached  in  the  usual  place.  And  there,  huddled  under 
a  tree,  as  doleful  as  the  shivering  birds,  stood  Rix.  He 
hesitated,  started  quietly  back  the  way  he  had  come. 
"  No,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  she  might  catch  sight  of 
me.  Then  she'd  be  offended — and  what  would  become 
of  my  picture?  "  So  he  turned  about — in  obedience 
to  these  counsels  of  calm  and  unprejudiced  good  sense. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  he  demanded  with 
friendly  severity  as  he  came  forward.  "  You'll  catch 
your  death  of  cold." 

At  sound  of  his  voice  her  drooping  form  straight 
ened  ecstatically.  At  sight  of  him,  looking  more  tre 
mendous  than  ever  in  the  big  waterproofs,  she  gave  a 
smile  like  a  sunburst.  "  You're  frightfully  late !  "  she 
reproached. 

"  Late !     We  can't  work  to-day." 

"  You  didn't  tell  me  not  to  come  if  it  rained,"  said 
she,  with  a  convincing  air  of  innocence.  "  And — I 
didn't  want  to  lose  a  day's  pay." 

He  was  still  frowning.  "  I  came  very  near  not  com 
ing  at  all,"  said  he.  "  It  was  by  the  merest  accident 
that  I  took  my  walk  in  this  direction." 

"  But — you  did,"  said  she  slyly. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  was  his  carefully  careless  reply.  "  I 
walk,  rain  or  shine." 

40 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

"  I  don't  mind  rain,  either — when  I'm  prepared  for 
it,"  said  she  cheerfully.  "  You  don't  know  how  fasci 
nating  canoeing  in  the  rain  is." 

But  he  was  not  convinced.  He  stood  staring  gloom 
ily  out  over  the  lake,  as  if  he  were  seeing  formidable 
enemies  approaching  under  cover  of  the  thick,  blue  mist. 
"  I've  got  to  go  in  a  few  minutes,"  said  he  almost 
curtly.  "  I've  arranged  for  a  trip  to  town,  as  I  can't 
work  to-day." 

"To  sell  a  picture?" 

"  I  haven't  any.  Those  from  the  other  side  aren't 
here  yet.  Anyhow,  I'm  going  to  show  only  American 
work." 

A  long  pause — an  uncomfortable  pause.  Then  she 
said  in  her  artless,  impersonal  way :  "  I  should  think  a 
wife  would  be  of  great  assistance  to  an  artist " 

"  As  a  roper-in,  you  mean?  "  he  interrupted  fiercely. 
"  No  real  painter  would  stoop  to  anything  so  degrading 
to  his  art  and  to  himself." 

"  Yet  you've  told  me  of  all  sorts  of  queer  schemes 
you've  put  up  to  lure  in  buyers,"  she  said. 

"  An  artist  who  marries  is  a  fool — and  worse,"  said 
he  sourly.  "  If  he's  happily  married  his  imagination  is 
smothered  to  death.  If  he's  unhappily  married  it's 
stabbed  to  death." 

She  listened  sweetly  and  patiently.  "The  subject 
4  41 


WHITE   MAGIC 


of  marriage  is  on  my  mind  to-day,"  said  she  with  con 
fiding  and  childlike  innocence. 

"  It  usually  is  on  the  minds  of  young  girls,"  said  he, 
big  and  frowning. 

"  But  my — my  affairs  are  near  the  crisis,"  pro 
ceeded  she.  "  And  one  reason  I  came  through  the  rain 
was  that  I  wanted  your  advice." 

He  shook  his  big  frame,  making  the  water  fly  as 
from  the  fur  of  a  great,  shaggy  dog  that  has  been  in 
swimming.  "  I  don't  give  advice,"  said  he  ungra 
ciously.  "  When  you  give  advice  you  make  yourself 
responsible  for  the  consequences.  Besides,  I  don't  know 
enough  about  you  to  be  able  to  judge." 

Her  look  up  at  him  was  the  essence  of  implicit  trust. 
"  You  know  more  about  me  than  anyone  in  the  world — 
more  than  I  know  myself." 

He  laughed  shortly.  "  I  know  nothing  about  you. 
Girls  are  not  in  my  line." 

Her  pretty  face,  the  prettier  for  the  dreariness  all 
round,  now  took  on  an  expression  of  hurt  feelings. 
"What's  the  matter,  Chang?"  she  asked  gently. 
"  You're  not  a  bit  friendly  to-day." 

His  face  could  not  but  soften  before  this  sweet  ap 
peal.  He  said  in  a  kindlier  tone :  "  I  think  you  ought 
to  go  home.  I'm  sure  you'll  catch  cold." 

She  looked  immensely  relieved.  "  Oh,  that's  why 
42 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

you're  cross,  is  it?"  said  she  gayly.  "Don't  worry 
about  me,  Chang.  I'm  as  dry  and  snug  as  can  be. 
Now,  do  be  kind  to  me.  I  don't  see  how  I'm  going  to 
marry  Pete — that  is,  this  man.  He's  a  nice  fellow — 
good-looking — has  everything  I  want — but —  Ye  gods ! 
He's  such  a  rotter !  " 

"What's  that?" 

"  It's  a  man — or  woman,  for  there  are  lots  and  lots 
of  female  rotters — it's  a  person  who — well,  you  always 
know  just  what  they  are  going  to  do  before  they  do  it, 
and  just  what  they're  going  to  say  before  they  say  it." 

"  That  sounds  like  good  marrying  material.  You 
know,  you  don't  want  surprises  in  married  life." 

"  Chang,  how  can  I  live  through  it?  "  she  cried  de 
spondently. 

"  You  say  you've  got  lots  of  tastes,  all  expensive. 
So — marry  him." 

"  He's  really  very  good-looking,"  pursued  Rix, 
watching  him  out  of  the  corners  of  her  eyes.  "  And  he 
dresses  beautifully — has  everything  just  right.  There 
isn't  a  thing  against  him — except — '  And  there  she 
halted,  as  if  she  were  not  quite  certain  whether  after 
all  there  was  a  positive  objection  to  the  man. 

"  Except — what?  "  inquired  he,  impatient  at  the 
long  pause  at  the  most  exciting  point  in  the  recital. 

She  secretly  delighted  in  the  success  of  her  ruse. 
43 


WHITE   MAGIC 


But  she  said  plaintively :  "  Oh,  you're  not  interested. 
You're  not  listening." 

"  I'm  sure  you're  catching  a  hideous  cold.  Of  all 
the  absurd,  silly  performances " 

"  Now,  don't  lecture  on  health.  I  simply  can't  stand 
it.  As  I  was  about  to  say  when  you  interrupted  me " 

"  I  didn't  interrupt  you,"  protested  he. 

"  Not  paying  attention  is  interrupting,"  said  she. 
"  Anyhow,  you're  interrupting  now.  What  I  want  to 
say  is,  the  only  thing  against  him  is  that  I  don't  love 
him." 

This  seemed  to  cheer  the  big,  dark,  young  man. 
With  a  certain  gayety  he  replied :  "  But  you  soon  will. 
You've  been  well  brought  up,  haven't  you?  Well,  that 
means  you  are — just  girl — ready  to  be  whatever  your 
husband  chooses  to  make  of  you." 

"  That's  true  of  most  girls,  Chang " — he  winced 
each  time  she  gave  him  that  name — "  but  it  isn't  true  of 
me — at  least,  not  any  more.  You've  put  all  sorts  of 
ideas  into  my  head." 

He  started  back  in  dismay  before  her  accusing,  re 
proachful  face,  so  sad,  so  serious.  "  I?  Put  ideas  into 
your  head?  Why,  you  were  buzzing  and  boiling  with 
'em  the  first  time  I  saw  you." 

"  But     they     didn't     amount    to     anything    until 

you " 

44 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

"  That's  like  a  woman !  "  he  exclaimed  indignantly. 
"  Trying  to  shift  responsibility  to  some  one  else." 

"  But  you  have  a  tremendous  influence  over  me." 

"  Rubbish !  Have  I  ever  tried  to  get  influence  over 
you?" 

"  I  don't  know  how  you  got  it,"  was  her  madden 
ingly  feminine  evasion. 

He  gave  a  kind  of  snort.  "  Next  thing  you'll  be 
accusing  me  of  advising  you  not  to  marry  this  rich  man 
you're  engaged  to." 

"  Xot  quite  engaged,"  corrected  she.  "  He  wants 
me  to  be.  And,"  she  went  on  with  meek  obstinacy, 
"  while  you  didn't  advise  me  against  it  in  so  many 
W0rds " 

"  Now,  Rix,"  he  almost  shouted,  pointing  his  finger 
at  her,  "  you  stop  right  there !  " 

"  Please,  Chang — come  in  out  of  the  rain.  And 
don't  talk  so  loud ;  it  makes  me  nervous.  I'm  almost 
hysterical  as  it  is." 

He  looked  at  her  in  terror.  All  that  would  be 
needed  completely  to  upset  him  would  be  for  her  to  have 
hysterics.  He  moved  nearer  her,  went  on  in  a  soothing, 
persuasive  tone :  "  I  advised  you  to  marry  him.  I 
showed  you  it's  the  only  thing  for  you  to  do." 

"  And  such  talk  was  unworthy  of  you,"  said  she, 
like  a  rebuking  angel.  "  You  didn't  really  mean  it. 

45 


WHITE   MAGIC 


You  know  you  wouldn't  stoop  to  do  such  a  thing  your 
self." 

His  frank  countenance  had  quite  a  wild  look,  so  agi 
tated  and  confused  was  he  by  her  swift  twistings  and 
turnings,  so  alarmed  was  he  as  he  felt  the  awful  danger 
approaching.  "  We're  not  talking  about  me.  We're 
talking  about  you  and  your  affairs — or,  rather,  you  are 
talking  about  them.  Keep  me  out  of  this." 

"  But  how  can  I  ?  "  argued  she  gently,  looking  ad 
miringly  up  at  him.  "  You've  become  the  big  influence 
in  my  life.  If  I  had  known  you  earlier  I'd  have  been 
very  different.  Even  now  I  feel  as  if  a  great  change 
were  coming  over  me " 

"  It's  the  cold  you're  catching,"  interrupted  he,  in 
desperate  attempt  to  be  jocose  and  create  a  diversion. 
"  You  must  go  straight  home." 

"  Chang,"  she  said,  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm,  "  if 
you  were  rich,  instead  of  poor,  would  you  talk  to  me 
like  this?" 

"  Now,  Rix- — stop  that  nonsense." 

"Don't,  Chang,"  she  pleaded.  "You  realize,  just 
as  well  as  I  do,  that  we've  made  a  frightful  mistake." 

He  did  not  venture  an  answer. 

"  You  knew  it  as  soon  as  you  saw  me  this  morn 
ing — didn't  you?"  continued  she.  "Yes,  I  saw  it  in 

your  eyes.    I  felt  it  in  your " 

46 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

He  suddenly  seized  her  by  both  shoulders,  looked 
into  her  eyes  searchingly.  "  This  isn't  a  bit  like  you, 
Rix.  What  are  you  up  to  ?  " 

She  simply  gazed  at  him — a  gaze  he  found  it  hard 
to  withstand;  yet  he  could  not  shift  his  charmed  eyes. 

"You're  trying  to  lead  me  on.  Why?"  he  de 
manded. 

"  Because  we  love  each  other,  Chang,"  she  said  as 
simply  and  sweetly  as  a  child. 

He  laughed  gently.  "  What  a  romancer  you  are ! 
Fortunately,  I'm  a  man.  I  don't  take  advantage  of  a 
baby." 

"  I'm  twenty-two." 

"  And  as  ignorant  of  the  world  as  a  baby,"  declared 
he,  like  grandfather  to  grandchild. 

"  I  know  what  I  want  when  I  see  it,  just  as  well  as 
you  do,  Chang,"  she  replied  steadily.  "  Better — be 
cause  you're  making  me  do  all  the  talking — which  isn't 
gentlemanly  of  you."  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears — and 
very  lovely  they  looked — like  dew-drenched  violets.  "  If 
it  wasn't  that  you're  holding  back  simply  because  you're 
poor  I'd  not  forgive  you  so  easily." 

He  dropped  his  hands  from  her  shoulders,  turned 
away  abruptly.  He  strode  to  the  edge  of  the  lake  and 
debated  with  himself.  When  he  came  back  to  her  he 
was  serene  though  grave.  At  sight  of  his  expression, 

47 


WHITE   MAGIC 


which  she  had  eagerly  awaited,  she  shivered.  "  Rix," 
he  said — and  all  the  fine  frankness  and  simplicity  of  his 
nature  were  in  his  eyes  and  his  voice — "  it's  lucky  for 
you  that  I've  lived  a  little,  or  we  might  be  dragging 
each  other  into  a  fearful  mess.  You  think  you've  fallen 
in  love — don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  it,  Chang,"  she  answered,  undaunted. 

"  Well,  I  know  you  haven't  fallen  in  love  with  me. 
You've  simply  fallen  in  love  with  love.  Your  imagina 
tion  has  been  giddied  by  this  little  adventure  that  seems 
so  romantic  to  you.  And  the  day'll  come  when  you'll 
thank  me  for  having  had  the  sense  to  understand  you 
and  to  understand  that  my  own  strong  liking  for  you 
isn't  love,  either." 

"  It's  what  /  call  love,"  said  she,  a  solemn,  wistful 
look  in  the  eyes  she  fixed  on  him.  "  Don't  you  miss  me 
and  think  of  me  all  the  time  when  we  aren't  together — 
just  as  I  do?  Don't  you  come  earlier  and  earlier — just 
as  I  do?  Didn't  you  fight  against  coming  in  the  rain 
to-day,  just  as  I  did?  Weren't  you  dreadfully  afraid 
you'd  be  disappointed,  just  as  I  was?  And  didn't  you 
simply  have  to  come " 

He  suddenly  lost  his  temper.  "  This  is  too  exasper 
ating  !  "  he  cried.  "  I've  done  wrong  to  let  you  come 
here.  I  was  innocent  enough  in  it " 

"  You  couldn't  have  kept  me  away,"  she  interrupted 
48 


THE   PAINTER    GETS   A    MODEL 

with  a  kind  of  childish  glee.  "  The  mischief  was  done 
the  first  day — over  the  chocolate.  Wasn't  it,  Chang? — 
honestly,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  You're  a  nice  little  girl,  but " 

She  cut  him  off  again :  "  If  you  knew  how  I  fought 
that  evening  and  night  and  all  the  next  day  and  night — 
and  how  early  I  started  out  to  find  you.  Had  you  be 
gun  to  hunt  for  me?  " 

"  No,"  said  he,  more  curt  than  convincing. 

"  Then  what  were  you  thinking  about — that  first 
morning  down  by  the  waterfall?  " 

He  flushed  guiltily.  Very  poor,  indeed,  at  all  kinds 
of  deception  was  Chang — except,  possibly,  self-decep 
tion. 

"  I  watched  you  for  half  an  hour.  You  were  sketch 
ing  a  face,  Chang — instead  of  the  waterfall.  Whose 
face  was  it?  " 

"  Yours,"  he  admitted,  as  if  the  matter  were  of  no 
consequence.  With  a  smile  of  patient  indulgence  he 
went  on :  "  Oh,  if  you'd  had  experience !  But  you 
haven't.  That's  why  you're  carrying  on  like  this. 
Now,  listen  to  me,  child ': 

"  I  like  Rix  better,"  she  interposed. 

"  No  matter,"  he  said,  with  a  gesture  of  impatient 
brushing  away.  "  I  don't  love  you.  I  won't  marry 
you.  And  you've  got  to  stop  proposing  to  me.  I  never 

49 


WHITE   MAGIC 


heard  of  such  vanity!  What  would  people  think  of 
you?" 

"  You've  taught  me  not  to  mind  what  people  think. 
You  said  you  despised " 

"  No  matter  what  I  said !  What  will  you  think  of 
yourself?  What  will  I  think  of  you?  " 

"  Why,  that  I  love  you,"  said  she  sweetly. 

He  looked  hopelessly  at  her,  threw  out  his  arms  in  a 
gesture  of  despair.  "  A  baby — just  a  baby.  Go  home 
and  grow  up ! "  he  cried,  and  strode  swiftly  away  with 
a  great  swashing  of  the  skirts  of  his  long  coat  and  a 
great  swishing  of  the  disturbed  undergrowth  of  the 
wilderness. 


Ill 

A    LESSON    IN    WOMAN 

TOWARD  four  the  next  afternoon  Wade,  at  the 
studio,  heard  a  knock  on  the  door.  He  recognized  it  so 
promptly  that  one  might  almost  have  suspected  he  had 
been  expecting  it — or,  would  hoping  for  it  be  a  more 
exactly  accurate  phrase?  By  way  of  answer  he  tiptoed 
across  the  floor,  rested  his  full  weight  against  the  door, 
as  there  was  no  bolt,  indeed  no  fastening  of  any  kind 
but  the  unused  outside  bar  and  padlock.  If  that  assault 
was  to  be  repelled  he  must  rely  wholly  upon  his  own  un 
aided  strength.  He  was  not  content  with  resting  his 
weight ;  he  braced  himself  and  pushed. 

The  knock  came  again — right  between  his  shoulder- 
blades  with  only  the  inch  plank  between. 

It  was  as  if  those  pretty  knuckles  of  hers  were  tap 
ping  him  on  the  back,  on  the  spinal  cord,  which,  as 
everyone  knows,  immediately  radiates  sensation  to  all 
parts  of  even  such  a  huge  body  as  was  Chang's.  He 
grew  quite  pale,  then  an  absurdly  boyish  red.  He  mut 
tered  something  that  sounded  like  "  damn  fool " — and 
it  certainly  must  have  been  addressed  to  himself. 

51 


WHITE   MAGIC 


The  knock  came  the  third  time,  quickly — a  triumph 
ant  knock,  seeming  to  say,  "  So  you're  in  there,  are 
you  ?  Well,  surrender  at  once !  " 

He  wondered  how  she  had  found  out,  for  he  cer 
tainly  had  made  no  sound  she  could  have  heard.  With 
the  fourth  and  most  vigorous  knock  he  discovered  the 
secret.  He  noted  that  his  body  against  the  door  made 
the  knock  sound  differently.  He  hastily  lifted  himself 
away,  put  his  hands  against  the  door  high  up  above 
where  she,  merely  a  person  of  medium  height,  and  wom 
an's  medium  height  at  that,  could  reach.  When  she 
knocked  again  he  felt  absurd.  For  the  sound,  hollow 
once  more,  must  reveal  to  her  that  there  was  indeed 
some  change  of  conditions  within,  proving  beyond 
doubt  the  presence  of  some  intelligent — or,  at  least, 
brain-using — being. 

His  poor  opinion  of  himself  and  his  fear  of  her 
sagacity  were  forthwith  justified.  "  It's  only  I,"  she 
called.  "  So  you  can  open." 

The  impudence!  As  if  he  were  eager  to  see  her, 
would  instantly  open  for  her !  Why,  she  was  positively 
brazen,  this  sweet,  innocent  young  girl.  No — that  was 
unjust.  Just  because  she  was  innocent  she  did  these 
outlandish,  outrageous  things.  Yet  how  could  a  girl  of 
twenty-two,  out  four  years,  extremely  intelligent — how 
could  she  be  thus  unaware  of  what  was  proper  and  mod- 

52 


A    LESSON  IN    WOMAN 

est  for  a  young  woman  dealing  with  a  bachelor?  How 
could  she  venture  upon — no,  not  merely  venture  upon, 
but  boldly  tackle,  grapple  with — the  subject  which  the 
maiden  should  never  so  much  as  hint  until  the  man  has 
forced  it  upon  her?  "I  don't  understand  it,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  She's  some  queer  mixture  of  craft  and  inno 
cence.  And  where  the  one  begins  and  the  other  ends  I'm 
blessed  if  I  know.  There's  some  mystery  in  this.  She's 
got  some  notion — some  false  notion — or  something — 
Heaven  knows  what.  All  I  know  is,  she's  got  to  stop 
hounding  me — and  she's  not  going  to  get  in." 

As  if  she  had  heard  these  angry  but  cautious  under 
tones  she  said :  "  Now.  Chang,  don't  be  a  silly.  I  know 
you're  against  the  other  side  of  the  door.  I  could  tell 
by  the  way  the  knocks  sounded.  Besides,  I've  just 
peeped  through  the  crack  underneath  and  I  saw  your 
big  feet." 

Then  he  did  feel  like  an  ass!  Caught  holding  a 
door,  like  a  ten-year-old  boy — he,  a  great,  huge,  grown 
man,  no  less  than  thirty-two  years  old!  Still,  of  the 
two  absurd  courses  open  to  him — to  let  her  in  and  to 
continue  to  bar  her  out — the  less  absurd  was  the  latter. 
To  face  her  with  a  red  and  sheepish  countenance — to 
face  her  mocking  smile — that  was  not  to  be  thought  of. 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  Chang,"  she  scoffed.  "  I  haven't 
got  a  clergyman  with  me." 

53 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Run  along  home,  you  foolish  child,"  he  cried. 
"  I'm  busy  and  mustn't  be  interrupted." 

"  I  must  see  you — for  just  a  minute,"  she  pleaded — 
the  kind  of  pleading  that  is  command.  "  Don't  be  so 
vain.  Don't  take  yourself  so  seriously." 

That  voice  of  hers — it  sounded  sanely  humorous. 
And  he  certainly  was  putting  himself  in  the  position  of 
having  egotistically  believed  to  the  uttermost  her  re 
marks  of  yesterday,  which  were  probably  nothing  but  a 
fantastic  mood.  But  he  simply  could  not  open  that 
door  and  face  her  plump  off.  He  made  three  or  four 
steps  away  from  it  on  tiptoe,  then  walked  heavily,  call 
ing  out  in  a  tone  of  gruff  indifference :  "  Come  on !  But 
don't  forget  I'm  busy."  Luckily  he  happened  to  glance 
at  the  picture;  he  had  just  time  hastily  to  fling  a  drape 
over  it.  He  went  to  the  fireplace  and  busied  himself 
with  the  fire — for  the  day  after  the  heavy  rain  was  of  an 
almost  winter  coolness.  He  heard  the  door  open  and 
close. 

"  Your  manners  are  simply  shocking,"  came  in  her 
voice. 

He  turned  round  to  face  her.  No,  she  was  not  in 
the  least  abashed,  as  one  would  have  expected  her  to  be 
on  seeing  him  for  the  first  time  after  her  proposal. 
What  did  it  mean  ?  What  was  in  that  industrious,  agile 
mind?  She  was  much  better  dressed  than  she  had  been 

54 


A    LESSON   IN    WOMAN 

as  his  model.  She  was  wearing  a  most  becoming  gray 
gown  with  a  small,  gray  walking  hat  to  match.  Yes, 
she  looked  prettier,  more  ladylike,  but — 

"  How  do  you  like  my  new  suit  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Very  good,"  replied  he.  "  But  while  you've  gained 
something,  you've  lost  more." 

"  I  know  it,"  admitted  she.  "  I  saw  it  the  instant  I 
looked  at  myself  in  the  glass,  and  I've  felt  it  all  the  way 
here.  I've  lost  what  you  like  best  in  me.  That  is,  I've 
not  exactly  lost  it,  but  covered  it  up.  But  it's  still 
here."  This  last  in  a  tone  gay  with  enjoyment  in  teas 
ing  him. 

He  stood  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  and  waited.  She 
came  slowly  toward  him,  halting  at  every  second  step. 
Her  smile  was  mysterious — and  disquieting.  It  was  a 
mocking  smile,  yet  behind  it  there  lurked — what? 
What  was  the  mystery  of  that  proposal? 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you'll  be  satisfied  now,"  said  she. 
"  I'm  engaged." 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  it,"  declared  he. 
"  Let's  talk  of  something  else." 

They  were  facing  each  other  now,  not  many  steps 
apart ;  and  the  sight  of  her,  in  such  high  good  humor, 
made  it  simply  impossible  for  him  to  remain  grumpy,  or 
to  pretend  that  he  was.  She  went  on :  "I  did  it  this 
morning — instead  of  coming  to  pose  for  you.  I  hope  I 

55 


WHITE   MAGIC 


didn't  put  you  out  too  much.  I  couldn't  think  of  any 
way  to  send  you  word." 

"  I  wasn't  there,"  said  he.  "  I  can  finish  the  pic 
ture  up  here." 

"  Then  you  don't  need  me  any  more?  "  inquired  she. 
And  the  little  hands  she  was  stretching  out  to  the  blaze 
dropped  pathetically  to  her  side  and  up  went  her  face 
to  gaze  into  his  mournfully. 

"  I've  done  with  models  in  America ! "  said  he, 
laughing — not  in  very  mirthful  fashion,  however. 

Her  eyes — they  were  innocent  to-day — remained 
serious.  "  I  don't  see  why  you  were  upset  by  what  I 
said,"  observed  she  reflectively,  warming  her  palms. 
"  You  can't  have  had  much  experience  with  women  or 
you'd  not  have  been." 

It  was  a  notable  proof  of  Chang's  fundamental  sim 
plicity  of  character  that  this  usually  sure  thrust  at 
masculine  vanity  did  not  reach  him,  though  he  was 
only  thirty-two.  "  You're  not  a  woman,"  replied  he. 
"  You're  a  girl — a  child — a  stray  from  the  nursery." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  I'm  a  woman.  You've 
made  me  a  woman." 

"  There  you  go  again !  "  cried  he.     "  Blaming  me  !  " 

"  Thanking  you !  "  corrected  she  gently.  "  But 
please  don't  get  excited  about — yesterday.  How  can 
we  be  friends  if  you  begin  to  fuss  and  fume  every  time 

56 


A    LESSON   IX    WOMAN 


you  think  of  it?  Really,  I  didn't  do  anything  out  of 
the  ordinary." 

He  dropped  into  a  chair  and  laughed  heartily. 

"  I  simply  proposed  to  you,"  said  she. 

"  So  you  think  it  is  ordinary  for  a  girl  to  propose 
to  a  man — and  to  insist  on  it,  in  spite  of  his  protests? 
Well — maybe  it  is — in  America." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  she  reflectively.  "  I  never  did 
it  before." 

"Really?" 

"  No,"  she  answered  him  unsmilingly.  "  But  I'm 
sure  I'll  do  it  again — if  I  feel  like  it." 

"  I  wouldn't — if  I  were  you.  The  next  man  might 
misunderstand." 

"  You  didn't?  "  The  gray  eyes  were  not  interroga 
tive,  but  affirmative. 

"  Certainly  not.  I'm  not  so  vain ;  and,  besides,  I 
knew  you." 

"  That  had  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it — I  mean,  the 
fact  that  we  knew  each  other  so  well.  I  shouldn't,  of 
course,  do  such  a  thing  to  a  perfect  stranger."  There 
was  no  suggestion  of  irony,  of  any  kind  of  humor,  in 
her  voice.  But  he  felt  uneasy.  She  proceeded  tran 
quilly  :  "  I  suppose  any  girl  would — in  the  same  cir 
cumstances — any  sensible  girl." 

"  I've  never  heard  of  it,"  confessed  he.  What  did 
5  57 


WHITE   MAGIC 


she  mean  by  "in  the  same  circumstances"?  There 
seemed  a  chance  to  penetrate  into  the  mystery,  but  he 
would  venture  no  questions.  He  contented  himself  with 
repeating :  "  No,  I  never  heard  of  it." 

"  Naturally,"  observed  she.  "  A  girl  wouldn't  tell 
it  afterwards — and  the  man  couldn't — if  he  were  a  gen 
tleman.  I'm  sure  if  anyone  ever  asks  me  whether  I  ever 
proposed  to  a  man  I'll  say  no.  And,  in  a  way,  it  is  true. 
Really,  you  were  the  one  that  proposed  to  me."  She 
nodded  slowly.  "  Really,  it  was  you." 

"  I?  "  he  exclaimed  in  derision. 

"  Yes,  you,"  she  affirmed,  meeting  his  gaze  gravely. 

His  eyes  wavered;  he  confusedly  sought  and  lit  a 
cigarette. 

"  Of  course,"  pursued  she,  "  I  never  could  have 
done  such  a  thing  if  I  hadn't  known  it  would  be — agree 
able." 

That  word  agreeable  struck  him  as  being  a  pecul 
iarly  happy  choice.  He  chuckled.  Her  smile  showed 
that  she  herself  regarded  it  as  a  rhetorical  triumph. 
"  You'll  have  a  chocolate — won't  you?  "  said  he. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  accepted,  with  eager  gratitude 
"  Won't  you  let  me  make  it?  " 

He  was  already  busy.  "  I  can't  have  you  mussing 
in  my  closet,"  he  laughed.  "  Though,  Heaven  knows,  I 
feel  as  if  you  were  at  home  here."  It  slipped  out,  be- 

58 


'A    LESSON  IN   WOMAN 


fore  he  realized  what  he  was  saying.  He  hoped  she  had 
not  heard. 

But  she  had.  "  That's  it !  "  cried  she.  "  Don't  we 
feel  at  home  and  at  ease  with  each  other!  I  never  felt 
that  way  with  anybody  in  my  life  before.  And  I've  an 
instinct  that  you  never  did,  either — never  so  much  so. 
.  .  .  What's  the  matter?" 

He  had  turned  in  the  closet  doorway,  was  gazing 
gloomily  at  her,  and,  being  so  big  and  so  dark,  his 
gloom  was  indeed  somber — suggested  the  darkness  of 
an  enchanted  forest.  "  After  all  my  resolutions !  "  he 
exclaimed,  with  bitterness  of  self-reproach.  He  shut  the 
closet.  "  No  chocolate,"  he  said  firmly.  "  You  must 
go  home  and  let  me  work." 

"  Why,  what  are  you  afraid  of? "  cried  she,  an 
angry  light  in  her  eyes.  "  You  told  me  yesterday  you 
wouldn't  have  me.  And  now  I'm  engaged." 

"  You  must  go." 

She  stamped  her  foot,  and  in  poise  of  head,  in  curve 
of  brow  and  lip  showed  for  the  first  time  the  imperious- 
ness  she  had  told  him  about.  "  If  I  didn't  like  you  so 
well ! "  she  cried.  "  Do  be  sensible.  You're  always 
calling  me  a  baby.  It's  you  that  are  the  baby." 

"  I  think  so,  myself,"  said  he,  the  more  quietly  but 
also  the  more  strongly  for  her  threatening  outburst  of 
temper.  "  Listen  to  me,  Rix.  This  nonsense  has  got  to 

59 


WHITE   MAGIC 


stop.  We're  going  to  keep  away  from  each  other. 
We're  not  in  love — and  we're  not  going  to  put  our 
selves  in  the  way  of  temptation."  He  looked  reproach 
fully  at  her.  "  Why  in  thunder  did  you  have  to  go  and 
spoil  everything  with  that  chatter  of  yours  yesterday? 
We  were  getting  along  beautifully,  and  the  idea  of  you 
as  a  girl  in  the  ordinary  sense  never  had  entered  my 
head." 

"  You  didn't  understand  yourself,"  said  she. 
"  Women  are  wiser  about  those  things  than  men — the 
most  foolish  women  than  the  wisest  men.  Besides,  if 
you  knew  the  circumstances  as  I  know  them,  you'd  not 
attach  so  much  importance  to  what  was  perfectly  nat 
ural." 

He  puzzled  for  an  instant  with  this  second  mysteri 
ous  reference  to  the  "  circumstance,"  dismissed  it. 
"  Anyhow,  the  milk's  spilled,"  said  he  with  determina 
tion.  "  And  you  must  go  and  not  come  back." 

"  But  now  that  I'm  engaged — 

"  Engaged  be  hanged ! "  exclaimed  he  violently. 
"  I'm  not  as  stupid  as  you  think.  Can't  I  see  that 
you're  up  to  the  same  tricks  as  yesterday?  What  do 
you  mean  by  it?  What's  going  on  in  the  back  of  your 
head?  No — never  mind.  I  don't  want  to  know.  I 
want  you  to  go." 

She  sat  on  the  long,  low  bench  and  began  to  cry. 
60 


A    LESSON  IN   WOMAN 

"  You're  brutal  to  me,"  she  sobbed.  "  Here  I  went  and 
got  engaged  just  to  oblige  you  and  so  that  we  could  be 
friends.  And  now  you  won't  be  friends !  " 

He  fretted  about,  glancing  angrily  at  her  from  time 
to  time  until  he  could  endure  her  unhappiness  no  longer. 
He  rushed  for  the  closet  and  began  rattling  the  pots 
and  dishes.  "  You  are  making  an  ass  of  me !  "  he  cried. 
"  I  never  heard  of  such  a  woman !  No  matter  what  I 
say  or  do,  you  put  me  in  the  wrong.  .  .  .  Dry  those 
tears  and  I'll  give  you  chocolate.  But,  mind  you,  this 
is  the  last  time." 

She  removed  the  traces  of  grief  with  celerity  and 
cheerfulness.  She  beamed  on  him.  "  I  simply  won't 
let  us  not  be  friends,"  said  she.  "  I  never  had  a  friend 
before.  I  couldn't  get  along  without  you.  You  teach 
me  so  much,  and  give  me  such  good  advice." 

"  Which  you  take,"  said  he,  grumpily  ironical. 

"All  of  it  that's  good,"  replied  she.  "You 
wouldn't  want  me  to  take  the  bad  advice,  would  you, 
Chang?  No,  certainly  you  wouldn't." 

In  the  end  he  let  her  help  him  make  the  chocolate, 
guided  her  as  she  investigated  the  secrets  of  the  closet — 
the  easels  and  paints,  the  canvases  and  drawing  paper. 
And  she  laughed  at  his  pair  of  big,  old  slippers,  and  in 
sisted  on  trying  on  a  working  coat  full  of  holes  and 
smelling  fiercely  of  stale  tobacco.  Before  he  realized 

61 


WHITE   MAGIC 


what  was  going  on  he  was  submitting  joyously  while 
she  combed  his  hair  in  a  new  way — "  one  that'll  bring 
out  the  artist  in  you."  And  then  they  had  a  picnic  be 
fore  the  fire,  and  neither  said  a  single  word  that  would 
not  have  sounded  foolish  from  the  lips  of  twelve  years 
old — foolish,  mind  you,  not  silly ;  there's  a  world  of  dif 
ference  between  foolish  and  silly,  between  folly  and  flat 
ness.  They  had  a  hilariously  good  time,  like  the  two 
attractive  grown-up  children  that  they  were — both 
brimming  with  the  joy  of  life,  both  eager  for  laughter 
as  only  intelligent,  imaginative  people  with  no  blight  of 
solemn-ass  false  dignity  upon  them  are.  And  how 
thoroughly  congenial  they  were !  He  did  not  awaken 
until  she  cried :  "  Good  gracious !  What  time  is  it  ?  Six 
o'clock?  I  must  go  this  minute." 

"  Don't  hurry.  I'll  take  you  home,"  said  he. 
Then,  with  sudden  virtue,  "  You  know,  this  is  to  be  the 
last." 

She  shook  her  head,  laughing.  "  Oh,  no.  I'll  be 
down  at  the  lake,  as  usual,  to-morrow  morning." 

"  I'll  not  be  there." 

"  Then  I'll  come  on  here." 

"  Now,  Rix,  that  isn't  square." 

"  Square?     To  whom?  " 

"  To  me — to  yourself — to  that  chap  you're  en 
gaged  to." 

62 


LESSON  IN   WOMAN 


"  Are  you  afraid  of  falling  in  love  with  me  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  in  the  least,"  replied  he,  hasty  and  vig 
orous.  "  I  don't  think  of  you  at  all  in  that  way." 

"  You  think  you'll  hurt  my  vanity  and  make  me 
angry." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind  !  "  protested  he  crossly. 
"  You  simply  can't  get  it  through  your  head  that  I 
don't  love  you  —  that  my  life  is  settled  along  other 
lines." 

"Then  why  shouldn't  I  come?" 

His  mouth  opened  to  reply,  closed  again.  His  ex 
pression  was  foolish. 

She  laughed.  "  You  are  vain  !  "  she  cried.  "  You 
think  the  more  I  see  of  you  the  more  I'll  love  you.  Oh, 
Chang,  Chang  —  what  a  peacock  !  " 

"  You've  got  a  positive  genius  for  putting  me  in  the 
wrong.  You  -  " 

"  Now,  isn't  it  sensible,"  she  interrupted,  "  for  you 
to  let  me  come  —  and  get  cured  of  my  romantic  nonsense, 
as  you  call  it?  " 

"  I  don't  need  you  any  more.  You  only  interrupt 
my  work.  And  I've  got  a  hard  fight,  making  a  career 
in  this  country.  I  -  " 

"  You  know  you  do  need  me.  The  picture  isn't 
done." 

"  Why  do  you  say  that?  " 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I  saw  it  in  your  face  when  I  first  came  and  spoke 
about  the  picture." 

She  had  him  there.  The  picture  did  indeed  need 
several  days  more  with  the  model.  He  took  another 
tack.  "  It's  a  mean  trick  for  you  to  play  on  that — that 
fellow  you're  going  to  marry." 

"  He  and  I  understand  each  other,"  said  she  with 
dignity. 

"  Does  he  know  about — about  this  ?  " 

"  As  much  as  is  good  for  him.  He  isn't  the  kind  of 
man  that  can  be  told  the  whole  truth.  A  person  has  to 
be  careful,  you  know,  and  judge  the  character  of  the 
person  she's  dealing  with." 

Her  manner  was  so  wise  and  serious  that  he  could 
not  but  laugh.  "  I'm  afraid  Rix  is — just  a  little  de 
ceitful." 

"  You  seem  very  much  interested,"  said  she. 
"  Well,  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.  Perhaps  you  can  ad 
vise  me  better,  if " 

He  put  up  his  hands.  "  Not  a  word ! "  he  cried. 
"  I  don't  want  to  know.  I  don't  care  anything  about 
it." 

"  Please  let  me  say  just  one  thing.  If  you'll  let  rne 
come " 

"  But  I  won't." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will,"  cried  she,  looking  mockingly  at 
64 


A    LESSON   IN    WOMAN 

him,  her  head  on  one  side.  "  You  say  you  are  devoted 
to  your  art.  Then  you've  no  right  to  sacrifice  your 
picture  to  your  vanity." 

"  My  vanity  !    Well,  I  like  that !  " 

"  Your  vanity.  Your  idea  that  on  acquaintance 
you  are  more  and  more  fascinating,  instead  of  less  and 
less  so." 

"  I  can  take  care  of  the  picture." 

"Oughtn't  I  to  pose  till  it's  done?  Honestly, 
Chang?" 

He  could  not  He  when  she  put  it  to  him  that  way. 
"  Well,  I  will  admit,"  he  conceded  with  much  reluctance, 
"  the  picture  would  be  the  better  for  a  few  more  sit 
tings.  But  they're  not  absolutely  necessary." 

"  I  have  my  right,  too,  Chang,"  continued  she. 
"  We're  doing  that  picture  together.  I've  got  a  share 
in  it— haven't  I?" 

He  had  grown  still  and  thoughtful.     He  nodded. 

"  So  I  insist  that  it  must  be  done  right.  .  .  .  Have 
you  noticed  I  haven't  once  to-day  said  anything  about 
loving  you?  " 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  Rix,  don't  talk  that  way.  It 
gets  on  my  nerves.  It  makes  me  feel  like  a  jumping 
idiot." 

"  But  have  I  said  anything?  "  persisted  she. 

"  Not  in  so  many  words,"  he  admitted.     "  But : 

65 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I'm  not  responsible  for  what  you  may  have  read 
into  my  looks  and  voice,  Chang.  You  know,  you  are  so 
vain !  .  .  .  I  haven't  said  anything,  and  I'll  promise  not 
to — to  get  on  those  shaky  nerves  of  yours  when  I  come 
to  pose." 

"That's  a  bargain?" 

"  Shake  hands." 

And  they  shook  hands.  "  Now,  I  must  go,"  said 
she.  When  he  began  to  get  ready  to  accompany  her  she 
forbade  him  in  a  tone  that  admitted  of  no  discussion. 
"  It's  an  hour  from  even  dusk,"  said  she.  "  Anyhow, 
I'm  afraid  of  nothing." 

"  I  should  say  !  "  laughed  he. 

"Because  I'm  not  afraid  of  you?  Oh,  you  are 
vain!" 

"Till  to-morrow?" 

"  To-morrow." 

"  And  no  more  nonsense  ?  " 

"  I  thought  it  all  out  last  night,"  said  she.  "  I  un 
derstand  that  you  haven't  got  the  money  to  support  a 
wife » 

"  Stop  right  there !  "  commanded  he.  "  Can't  you 
ever  get  it  straight?  I  don't  love  you — and  you  don't 
love  me.  That's  all." 

"  Is  my  hat  on  straight?  ...  I  must  hurry.  .  .  . 
Well,  I've  no  time  to  discuss.  Only  I  do  admire  and 

66 


'A    LESSON  IN    WOMAN 

respect  you  for  not  wanting  to  marry  a  girl  when  you 
couldn't  support  her  properly.  Now,  don't  get  red  and 
cross  and  begin  to  bluster  at  me.  I  must  go.  Good- 
by." 

And,  without  giving  him  a  chance  to  collect  words 
for  a  reply,  she  darted  lightly  and  gracefully  away. 


IV 


AN    UPSET    CANOE 

THE  picture  progressed  steadily.  There  were  no 
interruptions  from  the  weather,  and  a  paid  model 
would  not  have  been  so  regular  as  was  Rix.  But  prog 
ress  was  slow.  Roger  blamed  himself  in  part  for  this ; 
he  was  a  slow  workman,  growing  slower  always  as  his 
work  neared  completion.  "  I  never  saw  anybody  so 
painstaking,"  said  Rix.  "  And  you're  just  the  oppo 
site  in  everything  else  but  your  painting."  The  chief 
reason,  however,  for  the  snail's  pace  of  this  particular 
work  was  the  model.  Rix  came  early  and  stayed  late ; 
but,  after  their  plain  talk  and  agreement,  her  strength 
seemed  to  fail  rapidly.  She  looked  just  the  same;  she 
had  every  sign  of  perfect  health;  but  after  ten  or  fif 
teen  minutes  of  posing  she  would  insist  on  a  rest — a 
good,  long  rest.  As  he  had  no  right  to  criticise  or 
control  this  voluntary  model,  he  could  not  protest. 
And,  it  being  essential  to  the  picture  that  the  model 
keep  on  till  the  end,  was  he  not  merely  doing  his  simple 
duty  by  his  picture  in  trying  to  amuse  and  interest  her 
during  the  long  pauses?  Not  that  talking  with  her 

68 


AN    UPSET    CANOE 


was  a  disagreeable  task — no,  indeed,  or  a  task  at  all. 
But  his  conscience,  as  a  serious  man  bent  upon  a  career, 
needed  constant  reassurance  that  he  was  really  not 
trifling  away  the  gorgeous  lights  of  those  long  morn 
ings  in  dawdling  with  a  foolish,  frivolous  girl  who 
cared  only  for  laughter — that  he  was  not  encouraging 
his  liking  for  her  and  failing  in  his  duty  as  an  honor 
able  man,  as  her  friend,  to  discourage  her  liking  for 
him. 

"  Don't  be  cross  with  me,"  she  said  one  morning 
when  he  fell  into  an  obviously  depressed  reverie  during 
a  rest.  She  had  the  habit  of  observing  him  as  a  woman 
observes  only  the  man  of  whom  she  believes  that  he  is 
more  worth  while  as  a  subject  for  thought  than  herself. 

"  I'm  not  cross  with  you,"  replied  he. 

"  Then,  with  yourself." 

"  Can't  help  it.  I  work  so  infernally  slow — slower 
all  the  time." 

He  thought  he  saw  the  diaphanous  gossamer  of  a 
smile  flit  swiftly  across  her  face.  But  he  could  not  be 
sure;  it  might  have  been  an  imagining  of  his  own  sen 
sitiveness.  "  I  read  somewhere,"  observed  she,  "  that 
genius  is  the  capacity  for  taking  infinite  pains." 

"  I'm  hanged  if  I  know  whether  I'm  taking  pains, 
as  I  hope,  or  am  just  dawdling,  as  I  fear  and  as  you 
believe.  However,  we'll  soon  be  done." 

69 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  You  say  that  as  if  you  were  glad." 

"  Oh,  of  course  I'm  pleased  to  work  in  such  charm 
ing  company,"  said  he  politely.  His  face  took  on  the 
expression  that  always  made  her  uneasy  as  he  added: 
"  Still,  I  never  lose  sight  of  my  career." 

"  No  danger  of  that,"  declared  she,  with  a  convic 
tion  of  tone  which  she  could  have  found  it  in  her  heart 
to  wish  insincere.  "  I  never  saw  anyone  so  persistent 
and  so — so  hard." 

He  laughed  at  the  absurdity  of  her  calling  him 
hard.  What  would  she  think  if  she  knew  what  a  relent 
less  taskmaster  he  usually  was ! 

"  How  much  longer  do  you  think  you'll  need  me?  " 
asked  she. 

"  Not  many  days.     Three  or  four,  perhaps." 

It  was  her  turn  to  drop  into  depressed  abstraction. 
She  roused  herself  to  say,  "  Won't  you  use  me  in  an 
other  picture  ?  " 

He  frowned — it  was  nearly  a  scowl.  "  No,  indeed," 
said  he.  "  I've — that  is,  I've  imposed  on  you  enough." 

"  You  sounded  as  if  you  were  going  to  say  /  had 
imposed  on  you  enough,"  she  reproached,  with  an  air  of 
aggrieved  suspicion  that  was  perhaps  a  trifle  overdone. 

"  What  are  you  laughing  at  ?  " 

"  I  ?  "  cried  she  with  the  utmost  innocence.  "  I  feel 
like  anything  but  laughing." 

70 


AN    UPSET   CANOE 


He  subsided.  "  Well,  if  you  weren't  laughing  you 
ought  to  have  been." 

She  rather  disappointed  him  by  refusing  to  take 
the  bait.  Instead  of  asking  why,  she  returned  to  her 
original  point.  "  Don't  you  think  pictures  with  figures 
in  them — especially  women — are  more  interesting  than 
j  ust  grass  and  leaves  and  things  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"  Then  you've  got  to  have  some  model.  Why.  not 
me?  Haven't  I  been  giving  satisfaction?  " 

"  Indeed,  you  have.  But  I'll  get  a  model  who  isn't 
so  interesting  to  talk  with — one  who  doesn't  demand 
such  high  pay.  Time  is  the  most  valuable  thing  in  the 
world." 

"Not  mine.  It's  dirt  cheap."  She  sighed.  "I 
don't  know  what  I'll  do  with  myself  when  you  get 
through  with  me,"  she  said  dolefully.  "  I've  always 
been  restless  before.  I  see  now  I  was  right  in  think 
ing  it  was  because  I  didn't  have  something  to  do — 
something  useful." 

The  subject  dropped.  While  he  was  as  inexpert  as 
the  next  strongly  masculine  man  in  the  ways  of  women, 
he  had  intuitions  that  more  than  replaced  analysis. 
And  there  was  something  in  her  increasing  tendency 
to  reverie  that  made  him  uneasy — that  made  him  won 
der  whether  this  idle  child  were  not  plotting  some  new 

71 


WHITE   MAGIC 


device  for  stealing  more  of  his  time  from  his  career. 
"  She'll  get  left,  if  she  is,"  he  said  to  himself.  But  he 
continued  to  have  qualms  of  nervousness.  She  was 
crafty,  this  innocent  maiden ;  she  was  always  taking 
him  by  surprise. 

There  came  a  stage  in  his  work  when  it  did  not 
especially  matter  whether  he  had  a  model  or  not.  He 
let  her  continue  to  come,  however — while  he  evolved 
how  best  to  effect  the  separation.  He  felt  certain  she 
was  simply  making  use  of  him  in  whiling  away  leisure 
hours  that  would  otherwise  bore  her ;  still,  courtesy  de 
manded  that,  in  ridding  himself  of  her,  he  show  con 
sideration  for  her.  After  all,  she  had  been  most  valu 
able  to  him,  had  helped  him  to  make  what  he  hoped 
would  be  regarded  as  far  and  away  the  best  picture 
he  had  ever  produced.  "  Never  again !  "  he  swore  sol 
emnly.  "  Never  again  will  I  work  with  anyone  I  can't 
pay  off  and  discharge.  Free  labor  is  the  most  expen 
sive.  Something  for  nothing  takes  the  shirt  off  your 
back  when  you  come  to  pay." 

She  was  posing  in  her  canoe,  well  out  from  the 
shore.  He  was  laboring  at  an  effect  of  luminous  shad 
ow  that  would  better  bring  out  the  poetry  he  had  been 
striving  to  put  into  the  expression  of  her  face.  A 
slight  sound  made  him  glance  at  the  other  shore  of  the 


'AN   UPSET   CANOE 


lake — about  two  hundred  yards  away,  in  that  little  bay. 
At  a  point  where  his  model's  back  was  full  toward  them, 
two  young  men  were  standing  staring  at  her.  The 
expression  of  their  faces,  of  their  bodies,  made  them  a 
living  tableau  of  the  phrase,  "  rooted  to  the  spot."  At 
first  glance  he  was  angered  by  their  impertinence ;  but 
directly  came  an  intuition  that  something  out  of  the 
ordinary  was  about  to  happen.  Swift  upon  the  intui 
tion  followed  its  realization.  One  of  the  young  men — • 
the  shorter,  much  the  shorter — shouted  in  a  voice  of 
angry  amazement: 

"Beatrice!" 

That  shout  acted  upon  Roger's  model  like  the  shot 
from  a  gun  it  so  strongly  suggested.  She  glanced 
over  her  shoulder,  lost  her  balance.  Up  went  her  arms 
wildly ;  with  a  shriek  of  dismay  she  rolled  most  un 
gracefully  into  the  water.  Her  flying  heels  gave  the 
capsized  canoe  a  kick  that  sent  it  skimming  and  bob 
bing  a  dozen  yards  away.  Roger  lost  no  time  in 
amazement  at  the  sudden  and  ridiculous  transforma 
tion  of  the  serene  tranquillity  of  the  scene.  The  girl 
was  head  downward;  her  agitated  heels  were  more  than 
merely  ludicrous,  they  were  a  danger  signal.  He  flung 
down  palette  and  brush,  dashed  into  the  shallow  water, 
strode  rapidly  toward  where  Rix  was  struggling  to 
right  herself.  He  soon  arrived,  reached  under,  seized 
6  73 


WHITE   MAGIC 


her  by  the  shoulder  and  brought  her  right  side  up. 
She  splashed  and  spluttered  and  gasped,  clinging  to 
him,  he  holding  her  in  his  arms.  It  would  have  been 
impossible  to  recognize  the  lovely  and  charming  model 
of  two  minutes  before  in  this  bedraggled  and  streaming 
figure.  Yet  it  was  obvious  that  for  Roger  there  was 
even  more  charm  than  before.  He  was  holding  her 
tightly  and  was  displaying  an  agitated  joy  in  her 
safety  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  danger  she  had 
been  in. 

"  What  a  mess !  "  she  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  she 
could  articulate.  "  Where  are  those  two  ?  " 

He  glanced  across  the  bay,  located  them  running 
along  the  shore,  making  the  wide  detour  necessary  to 
getting  to  where  he  had  stood  painting  her.  "  They're 
coming,"  said  he.  He  spoke  gruffly  and  tried  to  disen 
gage  himself. 

Still  clinging  to  him  she  cleared  her  eyes  of  water 
and  looked.  "  Yes,  I  see,"  gasped  she.  "  How  cold  it 
is !  The  one  ahead  is  my  brother.  About  the  only 
thing  he  can  do  is  sprint.  So  he'll  get  here  first.  You 
must  act  as  if  you  knew  him — must  call  him  Heck — 
that's  the  short  for  Hector.  I'll  prompt  him  all  right." 

"  Come  on.  Let's  wade  ashore."  Again  he  tried 
to  release  himself  from  her.  "  The  water's  not  four 
feet  deep." 

74 


"AN    UPSET   CANOE 


"  Don't  let  go  of  me,"  pleaded  she.  "  I'm  a  little 
weak — and  oh,  horribly  cold !  "  And  she  took  a  firmer 
hold. 

He  did  not  argue  or  hesitate,  but  decided  for  the 
most  expeditious  way  ashore.  That  is,  he  gathered  her 
up  in  his  arms  as  easily  as  if  she  had  weighed  thirty 
pounds  instead  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  thirty — 
making  no  account  of  the  hundred  pounds  or  so  of 
water  she  was  carrying  in  her  garments.  As  she  had 
predicted,  Hector  distanced  his  taller  and  heavier  com 
panion  and  arrived  well  in  advance  of  him.  When  he 
came  panting  to  within  a  hundred  yards  or  so  of  where 
she  was  wringing  out  her  skirts  Roger  sung  out, 
loudly  enough  for  his  voice  to  reach  the  ears  of  the 
still  distant  other  youth:  "Hello,  Heck.  She's  all 
right." 

"  Heck  "  stopped  short  in  astonishment.  Then  he 
came  on,  but  at  a  slower  gait.  "Who  are  you?  "  he 
said  to  Roger. 

Rix  looked  up  from  her  clothes-wringing.  "  Call 
him  Chang,"  she  said  tranquilly  to  her  brother. 
"  Hank  mustn't  know." 

"  What  the  dev — "  began  Heck. 

"  Shut  up,  Heck,"  Beatrice  ordered  in  the  tone 
members  of  the  same  family  do  not  hesitate  to  use  to 
one  another  in  moments  of  extreme  provocation. 

75 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Don't  try  to  think.  You  know  you  can't.  You've 
certainly  got  sense  enough  to  see  that  Hank  must  be 
made  to  believe  that  Chang  and  you  are  old  friends." 
She  added  in  a  still  lower  tone :  "  Drop  that  hit-on-the- 
head  look.  He's  not  ten  seconds  away." 

Hector  had  barely  time  for  an  indifferently  suc 
cessful  but  passable  rearrangement  of  his  expression 
when  up  dashed  Hank,  puffing,  all  solicitude.  "  You're 
not  hurt  very  much,  dear — are  you  ? "  he  panted. 
"  Might  know — Heck's  such  an  awful  fool." 

"  Mr.  Chang,  Mr.  Vanderkief,"  interrupted 
Beatrice. 

Vanderkief,  big  and  heavy,  red  and  breathless,  me 
chanically  bowed.  The  effort  of  that  conventional  ges 
ture  seemed  suddenly  to  recall  to  him  the  state  of  mind 
suspended  by  the  catastrophe.  He  gave  the  big  artist 
a  second  and  longer  and  unpleasantly  sharp  stare. 
Roger  returned  it  with  polite  affability  of  eye.  "  We 
must  build  a  fire,"  said  he,  "  and  dry  this  young  lady. 
Come  on,  Heck."  The  way  "  Heck  "  winced  seemed  to 
delight  him — and  Beatrice  and  he  exchanged  one  of 
those  furtive  looks  of  sympathetic  enjoyment  of  a 
secret  joke  that  proclaim  a  high  degree  of  intimacy 
and  understanding.  Said  Roger  to  the  stiff  and  un 
easy  "Hank":  "Will  you  help,  Mr.  Vandersniff  ?  " 

"Mr.  Vanderkief,"  corrected  Beatrice.  "While 
76 


AN    UPSET    CANOE 


you  three  are  building  the  fire  I'll  retire  into  the  bushes 
and  squeeze  out  all  I  can  of  the  lake." 

Not  without  making  Hank's  eyes  glint  jealously 
and  her  brother's  eyes  angrily,  but  without  cither's 
overhearing,  she  contrived  to  say  to  Roger,  "  You'll 
help  me  out,  won't  you?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  he.  "  But  my  name's  Roger  Wade — 
not  Chang." 

"  And  mine's  Beatrice  Richmond." 

"  That's  plenty  to  go  on.  Now,  hide  in  the  bushes. 
We  must  hurry  up  the  fire."  And  he  cried  to  Hank: 
"  Come  on,  Vanderkief !  " 

Miss  Richmond's  teeth  were  chattering ;  but  she  de 
layed  long  enough  to  engage  her  brother  aside  a  mo 
ment.  "  His  name's  Wade,  not  Chang." 

"Good  Heaven!"  muttered  Heck.  "What's  the 
meaning  of  all  this?  Beatrice,  who  on  earth  is  the  fel 
low?  Why,  you  aren't  even  sure  of  his  name!  " 

"  Mind  your  own  business,"  said  Beatrice  tran 
quilly.  "  He's  an  old  friend  of  yours — of  mine — of  the 
family — an  artist  we  met  in  Paris.  Don't  forget  that." 

Heck  clinched  his  fists  and  drew  his  features  into  a 
frown  that  would  have  looked  dangerous  had  his  chin 
been  stronger.  "  I'll  not  stand  for  it.  I'm  going  to 
take  you  bang  off  home." 

"  And  put  Hank  on  to  the  whole  business  ? — and 


WHITE    MAGIC 


end  the  engagement? — and  disgrace  me? — and  your 
self? — and  the  family?  "  Everyone  of  these  cumula 
tive  reasons  why  Heck  could  not  refuse  to  conspire  she 
emphasized  with  a  little  laugh.  She  ended :  "  Oh,  I 
guess  not.  I  care  less  about  it  than  you  do.  Be  care 
ful,  or  I'll  give  it  away,  myself.  It  would  be  such 
fun !  " 

Hector,  despite  his  anger,  gave  an  appreciative 
grin,  for  he  had  a  sense  of  humor. 

"  Behave  yourself,"  said  Beatrice.  "  Go  help  get 
wood." 

"  But  what'll  mother  say — and  father !  Holy  cat ! 
How  father  will  scream  !  " 

"  Don't  you  worry.  Do  your  part !  "  And  Bea 
trice  vanished  among  the  bushes  and  huge  glacial  rocks. 

Roger  conducted  his  part  in  the  deception  with  sig 
nal  distinction.  He  so  busied  himself  collecting  huge 
pieces  of  wood  and  bearing  them  to  the  central  pile  they 
were  making  in  an  open  space  that  he  had  no  breath 
or  time  for  conversation;  and  as  the  other  two  men 
could  not  but  follow  so  worthy  an  example,  not  a  word 
was  said.  Besides,  a  glance  at  the  face  of  either  big 
Hank  or  little  Heck  was  enough  to  disclose  how  in 
dustriously  they  were  thinking.  Once  Hank,  finding 
himself  near  the  picture,  began  to  edge  round  for  a 
look  at  it.  He  thought  Roger  was  busy  far  away.  He 

78 


UPSET   CANOE 


literally  jumped  when  Roger's  voice — authoritative, 
anything  but  friendly — hurled  at  him :  "  I  say  there, 
you!  Keep  away  from  that  picture!  I  don't  let  any 
body  look  at  my  unfinished  things." 

"  I — I  beg  your  pardon,"  stammered  Vanderkief, 
hastily  putting  himself  where  no  suspicion  of  even  peep 
ing  could  possibly  lie  against  him. 

The  fire  was  a  monster,  and  Roger  and  Beatrice — 
who  addressed  him  alternately  as  Chang  and  Mr.  Wade 
— were  soon  drying  out.  They  talked  and  laughed  in 
the  highest  spirits,  not  unmindful  of  the  gloominess  of 
the  silent,  listening  brother  and  fiance,  but  positively 
enjoying  it.  Presently  Beatrice  turned  to  her  brother 
and  said,  "  I've  persuaded  Mr.  Wade  to  accept  moth 
er's  invitation." 

Roger  smiled  agreeably.  "  Not  exactly,  Miss  Rich 
mond,"  parried  he,  as  skillfully  as  if  the  stroke  had  not 
come  without  the  least  warning.  "  I  couldn't  be  sure, 
you  know," 

Beatrice  looked  at  the  watchful  Vanderkief — a 
handsome  fellow,  almost  as  big  as  Roger,  but  having 
the  patterned  air  of  a  fashionable  man  instead  of  Rog 
er's  air  of  unscissored  individuality.  "  Chang  is  still 
the  toiling  hermit,"  said  she.  "  Mother's  having  hard 
work  to  get  him  even  for  dinner."  She  turned  to 
Roger.  "  You  must  come,  this  once,  Chang,"  pleaded 


WHITE   MAGIC 


she.     In  an  undertone  she  added,  "  You  owe  it  to  me — 
to  help  me  out." 

"  There's  no  resisting  that,"  said  he,  but  he  did  not 
conceal  his  dissatisfaction. 

Vanderkief's  jealousy  would  no  longer  permit  him 
to  be  silent.  He  blurted  out :  "  I  don't  see  why  you 
annoy  Mr. — Mr. " 

"  Wade,"  assisted  Roger  easily. 

"  I  thought  it  was  Chang,"  said  Vanderkief  with 
a  slight  sneer. 

"  So  it  is,"  cried  Beatrice  gayly.  "  But  only  for 
the  favored  few  whom  Mr.  Wade  admits  to  friendship. 
You  know  he's  not  like  you  and  Heck,  Hanky.  He's 
a  real  personage.  He  can  do  things." 

Hanky  looked  as  if  he  would  like  nothing  on  earth 
or  in  Heaven  so  much  as  a  chance  at  this  big,  impres 
sive-looking  mystery,  with  bare  fists  and  no  referee. 
"  I  was  about  to  say,"  he  went  on,  "  it's  a  shame  to 
annoy  so  busy  and  important  a  chap  with  invitations." 

Roger  looked  at  him  in  a  large,  tolerant  way  that 
visibly  delighted  Beatrice.  "  Much  obliged,  Vander 
kief,"  said  he.  "  But  I'm  fond  of  the  Richmonds,  and 
it's  a  pleasure  to  break  my  rule  for  them."  He  beamed 
on  Heck.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again  !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  I  didn't  realize  how  much  I  had  missed  you  till  I  saw 
you  once  more.  Isn't  this  like  old  times  ?  " 

80 


"AN    UPSET   CANOE 


"  Well,  I  guess,"  said  Heck  on  the  broad  grin. 
"  It  is  old  times !  " 

"  But  you'd  better  take  your  sister  home  now — 
walk  her  briskly  every  inch  of  the  way.  Really,  she 
ought  to  run." 

"  No,"  said  Beatrice.    "  I'm  going  back  as  I  came." 

"  But  who's  to  wade  into  that  icy  water  for  your 
canoe?  "  inquired  Roger.  "  Not  I,  for  one." 

"  Certainly  not,"  cried  she.  "  I  spoke  without 
thinking.  I'll  send  one  of  the  servants  for  it  in  a  boat." 

"  Now,  hurry  along,"  said  Roger ;  "  and  walk  fast. 
And  if  I  can  arrange  to  come  to  dinner  I'll  send  up  a 
note  this  afternoon." 

Beatrice  was  eying  him  reproachfully ;  but  as  Hank 
was  watching  her  she  did  not  venture  to  protest.  "  I'll 
see  you  to-morrow  morning,"  said  she. 

"  Oh,  no — don't  bother  to  come.  I'll  let  you  know 
when  I  need  you." 

"  So  this  is  where  you've  been  spending  your  morn 
ings  ?  "  said  Vanderkief . 

"  Some  of  them,"  replied  Beatrice.  "  It  was  to 
have  been  a  surprise.  Still —  You  didn't  let  them  see 
it,  did  you,  Chang?  " 

"  Not  a  peep,"  he  assured  her. 

Vanderkief's  tension  somewhat  relaxed.  Roger  ad 
mired  the  innocent  Miss  Richmond.  Realty,  she  had 

81 


WHITE   MAGIC 


been  displaying  a  genius  for  deception — whose  art  lies 
in  saying  just  enough  and  leaving  it  to  the  dupe's  own 
imagination  to  do  the  heavy  work  of  deceit.  The  part 
ing  was  accomplished  in  good  order,  Vanderkief  show 
ing  a  disposition  to  be  apologetically  polite  to  Roger 
now  that  he  had  convinced  himself  he  was  mistaken  in 
his  first  jealous  surmises.  "  If  you  make  a  good  job 
of  Miss  Richmond,"  said  he  graciously,  "  I'll  see  that 
a  lot  of  things  are  put  in  your  way." 

Roger  thanked  him  with  a  simple  gratitude  that 
put  him  in  excellent  humor  with  himself.  After  the 
three  set  out  Beatrice  came  running  back.  "  You 
saved  me,"  she  said.  "  I'm  so  ashamed  for  having 
dragged  you  into  such  a  mess.  But  you  must  do  one 
thing  more.  You  must  come  to  dinner." 

"  Can't  do  it,"  said  Roger.  "  Here's  where  I  step 
out." 

This  seemed  to  astonish  her.  She  looked  at  him 
doubtfully,  was  so  agitated  by  his  expression  that  she 
hastily  cried,  "Oh,  no,  you'll  not  desert  me.  I  admit 
it's  my  fault.  But  you  wouldn't  be  so  unfriendly  as  to 
get  me  into  trouble !  " 

"  How  would  I  get  you  into  trouble?  It's  just  the 
other  way.  If  I  came  to  your  house  it'd  make  a  tangle 
that  even  Vanderkief  would  see." 

"  No — no,  indeed,"  protested  she.     "  I  can't  stop 


AN    UPSET   CANOE 


to  explain  now.     Don't  be  so  suspicious,  Chang.     I'll 

be  here  to-morrow  morning — no,  at  the  studio.     Pete 

—that  is,  Hank — might  follow  me  here.     And  now  that 

you  know  who  we  are,  don't  you  see  there's  no  reason 

for " 

She  laughed  coquettishly,  and  away  she  sped,  be 
fore  he  could  repeat  his  refusal.  To  call  after  her 
would  be  to  betray  her. 

As  he  was  working  in  the  usual  place  near  the  cas 
cade  the  next  morning  she  came  upon  him  from  the 
direction  of  the  studio.  "  What  a  fright  you've  given 
me !  "  exclaimed  she,  dropping  to  the  grass  a  few  yards 
away.  "  I  went  up  to  the  studio  as  I  told  you  I  would." 

He  had  bowed  to  her  with  some  formality.  His 
tone  was  distinctly  stiff  as  he  replied :  "  My  work  com 
pelled  me  to  be  here.  Anyhow,  Miss  Richmond,  it's 
clear  to  me,  and  must  be  to  you,  that  our  friendship 
must  cease." 

"  You  don't  look  at  me  as  you  say  that,"  said  she, 
obviously  not  seriously  impressed. 

"  It  isn't  pleasant  to  say  that  sort  of  thing  to  you," 
replied  he.  "  But  your  coming  again,  when  you  ought 
not,  forces  me  to  be  frank." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  she,  clasping  her  knees  with  her 
hands.  "Why  must  our  friendship  cease?" 

83 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  There  are  many  reasons.  One  is  enough.  I  do 
not  care  to  continue  it." 

"  How  nasty  you  are  this  morning,  Chang ! " 

He  took  refuge  in  silence. 

"Surely  you're  not  jealous  of  Hanky?"  said  she, 
with  audacious  mischief. 

He  ignored  this. 

"Don't  look  so  sour.  I  was  merely  joking.  Are 
you  cross  because  I  made  you  help  me  tell — things  that 
weren't  quite  so  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  that  sort  of  business,"  said  he,  un- 
convincingly  industrious  with  his  brush. 

"  Neither  do  I,"  said  she.  "  But  what  was  I  to  do? 
You  know,  you  forced  me  into  engaging  myself  to 
him." 

He  stopped  work,  stared  at  her.  The  light — or 
something — that  morning  was  most  becoming  to  her, 
the  smallish,  slim,  yellow-haired  sprite — most  disturb 
ingly  becoming. 

She  went  on  in  the  same  sweet,  even  way :  "  And 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  my  coming  here  to  act  as  your 
model  I'd  not  have  got  into  trouble.  And,  having  got 
in,  what  was  there  to  do  but  get  out  with  as  little 
damage  to  poor  Peter's  feelings  as  possible  ?  "  Ther 
she  looked  at  him  with  innocent  eyes,  as  if  she  had 
uttered  the  indisputable. 


'AN    UPSET   CANOE 


Roger  surveyed  her  with  admiration.  "  You  are — 
the  limit !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  The  limit !  " 

"  But  isn't  what  I  said  true?  "  urged  she.  "  What 
else  could  I  have  done  ?  " 

"  True?  Yes — true,"  said  he,  making  a  gesture  of 
resignation.  "  I  admit  everything — anything." 

"  Now,  do  be  reasonable,  Chang !  "  she  reproached. 
"Where  isn't  it  true?" 

"  If  I  let  myself  argue  with  you  I'd  be  running  wild 
through  the  woods  in  about  fifteen  minutes.  Tell  me, 
does  anyone  in  your  family — or  among  your  acquaint 
ances — does  anyone  ever  dispute  with  you?" 

She  reflected,  ignoring  the  irony  in  his  tone. 
"  No,"  said  she,  "  I  don't  believe  they  do.  I  have  my 
own  way." 

"  I'd  have  sworn  it,"  cried  he. 

"  You  are  the  only  one  that  ever  opposes  me,"  said 
she. 

"I?  Oh,  no.  Never!  But  in  this  one  tiling  I 
must."  He  changed  to  seriousness.  "  Rix,  I'll  have 
nothing  to  do  with  your  deceiving  that  nice  young 
chap.  That's  flat  and  final." 

|          "  Isn't  he  nice,  though !  "  exclaimed  she.     "  I've  al- 

i   ways  liked  him  since  he  was  a  little  boy  at  dancing 

school  with  such  a  polite,  quiet  way  of  sniffling.     He 

hates  to  blow  his  nose.     You  know,  there  are  people 

85 


WHITE   MAGIC 


like  that.  I  wouldn't  hurt  his  feelings  for  the  world. 
You  see,  everybody  can't  be  harsh  and  hard  like  you. 
Now,  you  take  a  positive  delight  in  saying  unpleasant 
truths." 

"  I'm  nothing  of  a  liar,"  said  he  curtly. 

66 1  like  that  in  you,"  cried  she  with  enthusiasm. 
"  It  makes  me  feel  such  confidence.  You're  the  only 
person  I  ever  knew  whom  I  believed  in  everything  they 
said." 

He  gave  her  a  look  of  frank  surprise  and  suspicion. 
"  What  are  you  driving  at?  "  he  demanded.  "  Now, 
don't  look  innocent.  Out  with  it !  " 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  she,  smiling. 

"  Pardon  me,  but  you  do — perfectly.  What  are 
you  wheedling  for  ?  " 

"  How  can  we  be  friends,"  pleaded  she,  "  if  you're 
always  suspecting  me?  " 

"  We're  not  going  to  be  friends,"  replied  he  posi 
tively.  "  This — here  and  now — is  the  end." 

It  was  evident  that  his  words  had  given  her  a  shock 
— a  curious  shock  of  surprise,  as  if  she  had  expected 
some  very  different  reception  to  this  proffer  of  hers. 
However,  after  a  brief  reflection  she  seemed  to  recover. 
"  How  can  so  clever  a  man  as  you  be  so  foolish?  "  ex 
postulated  she.  "  You  know  as  well  as  you're  sitting 
there  that  we  simply  can't  help  being  friends." 

86 


AN   UPSET   CANOE 


"  Friends — yes,"  lie  conceded.  "  But  we're  not 
going  to  see  each  other." 

"  And  what  would  I  say  to  Pete?  " 

"  Something  clever  and  satisfying.  By  the  way, 
how  did  you  manage  to  get  away  with  it  when  you 
reached  home  ?  " 

She  laughed  delightedly.  She  was  looking  her  most 
innocent,  most  youthful.  "  Oh,  such  a  time !  "  cried 
she.  "  Mother —  You  don't  know  mother,  so  you 
can't  appreciate.  But  you  will,  when  you  do  know 
her.  It  was  a  three-cornered  row — Heck  and  mother 
and  I.  Heck  took  a  shine  to  you,  so  he  was  really 
about  half  on  my  side.  I  told  just  how  I  met  you — 
the  whole  story — except  I  didn't  tell  the  exact  truth 
about  the  picture." 

Her  look  was  so  queer  that  he  said  in  alarm: 
"  What  did  you  say  about  it?  " 

"We'll  talk  of  that  later,"  replied  she — and  his 
knowledge  of  her  methods  did  not  allow  him  to  receive 
with  an  eased  mind  this  hasty  insistence  on  delay. 
"  Mother  wanted  to  know  who  you  were,  and,  of  course, 
I  couldn't  tell  her — not  anything  that  would  satisfy  a 
woman  like  mother.  She  forbade  me  ever  to  see  you 
again.  I  told  her  that,  on  the  contrary,  I'd  see  you 
this  morning.  She  raved — my,  how  she  did  rave !  " 
And  Rix  burst  into  peals  of  laughter.  "  You  ought 

8T 


WHITE   MAGIC 


to  have  heard!  She's  so  conventional.  She  accused 
me — but  you  can  imagine." 

"  Yes,  I  can,"  said  he  dryly.  "  And  she's  right — 
absolutely  right.  We'll  not  see  each  other  again." 

"  Oh,  but  she  wants  to  see  you,"  rejoined  Miss 
Richmond.  "  She  can  hardly  wait  to  see  you,  herself. 
She's  badly  frightened  lest  you'll  not  come." 

Roger  let  his  absolute  disbelief  show  in  his  face. 
There  must  somewhere  be  bounds  to  what  this  resource 
ful  and  resolute  young  person  could  accomplish.  These 
assertions  of  hers  were  beyond  those  bounds — far  be 
yond  them. 

"  It  was  this  way,"  pursued  Miss  Richmond  with 
innocent  but  intense  satisfaction  in  her  own  cleverness. 
"  I  pointed  out  to  her  that,  if  I  didn't  go  to  you  and 
keep  on  with  the  picture,  Hanky — that's  Peter  Van- 
derkief — would  realize  I'd  been  flirting  wildly  with  a 
strange  man  I  had  picked  up  in  the  woods  and  would 
break  the  engagement.  And  mother  is  set  on  my  mar 
rying  Peter.  So  she  sent  me  off  herself  this  morning 
and  took  charge  of  Peter  to  keep  him  safe.  Am  I  not 
clever  ?  " 

"  I  can  think  of  nothing  to  add  to  what  I  have  al 
ready  said  on  that  point,"  observed  Roger  mildly.  "  I 
am  actually  flabbergasted !  " 

"  So  was  mother,"  said  she  with  innocent,  young 
88 


AN    UPSET   CANOE 


triumph.      "  And  she  used  just  that  word.     Here's  a 
note  from  her  to  you." 

Miss  Richmond  took  a  letter  from  the  pocket  of  her 
jacket  and  held  it  toward  him.  He  made  no  move  to 
advance  and  take  it  from  her.  Instead  he  made  a  ges 
ture  that  was  the  beginning  of  a  carrying  out  of  the 
boyish  impulse  to  put  his  hands  behind  his  back. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  get  up  and  bring  it  to  you?  " 
said  she. 

"  I  want  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  said  he  coldly.  "  I 
don't  know  your  mother.  I've  no  doubt  she's  an  esti 
mable  woman,  but  I've  no  time  to  enlarge  the  circle  of 
my  acquaintances." 

Miss  Richmond  once  more  seemed  astounded  by  this 
unmistakable  evidence  of  an  intention  on  his  part  to 
end  their  friendship  absolutely.  She  looked  at  him  in 
credulously,  then  questioningly,  then  haughtily.  She 
put  the  note  in  her  pocket,  rose  and  stood  very  straight 
and  dignified.  "  That  is  rude,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  it  is  rude,"  admitted  he.  "  But  you  have  left 
me  no  alternative.  There  is  only  the  one  way  to  avoid 
being  drawn  into  deceptions  that  are  most  distasteful  to 
me." 

She  eyed  him  as  if  measuring  his  will.     She  saw  no 
sign  of  yielding.     "  You  think  I'm  contemptible,  don't 
you  ?  "  said  she,  her  tone  friendly  again. 
7  89 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I  do  not  presume  to  judge  you.  You  have  your 
own  scheme  of  life,  I  mine.  They  are  different — that  is 
all.  I  don't  ask  you  to  accept  mine.  You  must  not  ask 
me  to  accept  yours.  You  must  not — shall  not — entan 
gle  me  in  yours." 

She  leaned  against  a  tree,  gazed  thoughtfully  at  the 
rainbow  appearing  and  disappearing  on  the  little  wa 
terfall.  When  she  returned  to  him  her  face  was  sweet 
and  sad.  He  glanced  up  from  his  work,  hastily  fixed 
his  gaze  on  it  again.  "  You  are  right — absolutely 
right,"  she  said.  "  I've  always  done  as  I  pleased.  And 
everyone  round  me — the  family,  the  servants,  the  gov 
ernesses — everyone — has  humored  and  petted  me  and 
encouraged  me  to  take  my  own  way." 

"  I  understand,"  said  he.  "  The  wonder  is — "  But 
he  deemed  it  wise  not  to  say  what  the  wonder  was. 

"  You  really  can't  blame  me,  Chang,  can  you,  for 
having  got  into  the  habit  of  thinking  whatever  I  please 
to  do  is  right?  " 

"  Certainly  I  don't  blame  you,  Rix,"  said  he  gently. 
"  Considering  what  you've  probably  been  through, 
you're  amazing.  In  the  same  circumstances  I'd  have 
been  unfit  to  live." 

"  You  don't  despise  me?  "  asked  she  eagerly. 

"  Despise  you  ?  Why,  I  couldn't  despise  anybody. 
It's  a  roomy  world — room  for  all  kinds." 

90 


I 


AN    UPSET   CANOE 


"  You  like  me?  Not  love,"  she  hastened  to  explain, 
"just  like.  Do  you?" 

He  smiled  his  friendliest.  "  Sure !  You're  about 
the  nicest  girl  I  ever  met — when  you  want  to  be." 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said,  tears  in  her  eyes ;  and  she 
dropped  back  into  her  reverie,  he  resuming  his  work. 
There  was  a  long  pause  between  them — a  pause  filled 
by  the  song  of  birds  thronging  the  foliage  above  and 
around  them,  and  by  the  soft  music  of  the  falling  wa 
ters.  "  Sometimes  I  think  it's  an  awful  bad  thing  for 
people  to  have  all  the  money  they  want — to  be  rich," 
said  she  pensively.  "  That's  one  trouble  with  our  fam 
ily." 

"  Why,  you  told  me  you  had  to  marry  for  money," 
said  Roger,  much  surprised.  He  hated  liars;  he  was 
loath  to  believe  that  she  had  lied  to  him. 

She  looked  miserably  confused.  "  You  didn't  un 
derstand  quite,"  she  replied  hastily.  "  And  I  can't  ex 
plain — not  now.  You  mustn't  ask  me." 

"  Ask  you?    It's  none  of  my  business." 

"  I  didn't  mean — I  didn't  mean  to  deceive  you," 
pleaded  she.  "  But — I  can't  explain  now." 

"  Don't  think  of  it  again,"  said  he,  with  a  careless 
wave  of  one  of  his  long  brushes.  It  was  no  new  experi 
ence  to  find  that  people  supposed  to  be  rich  were  merely 
struggling  along  on  the  edge  of  the  precipice  of  pov- 

91 


WHITE   MAGIC 


erty.  Poor  child,  making  one  of  those  hideous  sacrifices 
on  the  altar  of  snobbishness ! — or,  rather,  being  sacri 
ficed,  for  she  was  too  young  to  realize  to  the  full  what 
she  was  doing.  Still,  Peter  Vanderkief  did  not  size  up 
so  badly,  as  husband  material  went. 

Silence  for  several  minutes ;  she,  seated  again  and 
studying  his  strong,  handsome  face  with  its  intent,  ab 
sorbed  expression — concentrated,  powerful.  She  did 
not  venture  to  speak  until  he  happened  to  glance  at  her 
with  an  absent  smile.  Then  she  inquired  sweetly: 
"  May  I  ask  you  something  ?  " 

"  Go  ahead." 

"  Won't  you  please  come  to  dinner  to-morrow 
night?  That's  what  mother's  note's  about.  It  would 
be  a  great  favor  to  me.  It  would  straighten  everything 
out.  You  won't  have  to  do  any  further  deceiving." 

He  went  on  with  his  work.  After  a  while  he  asked: 
"  Does  your  Peter  think  you  love  him?  " 

The  color  mounted  in  her  cheeks.  But  it  was  in  the 
accents  of  truth  that  she  replied :  "  He  knows  I  don't." 

"  And  if  I  came  I'd  not  be  helping  to  deceive  him  as 
to  what  you  think  of  him?  " 

"  No — on  my  honor." 

He  looked  at  her.  "  No's  quite  enough,"  said  he,  in 
a  tone  that  made  her  thrill  with  pride.  "  I  think  you 
are  truthful." 

92 


"AN   UPSET   CANOE 


"  And  I  am — with  you,"  said  she,  her  expression 
at  its  very  best.  "  I'd  be  ashamed  to  lie  to  you.  Not 
that  I've  always  been  quite — quite — painfully  accu 
rate " 

"  I  understand.  You  and  I  mean  the  same  thing 
when  we  say  truthful." 

"Will  you  come?" 

"  Yes.    Where  do  you  live?  " 

She  laughed.  "  Why,  we're  the  Richmonds.  Didn't 
you  guess?"  She  nodded  as  if  a  mystery  had  been 
cleared  up  for  her.  "  Oh,  I  understand  now  why  you've 
acted  so  differently  from  what  I  thought  you  would 
when  you  found  out." 

He  smiled  faintly.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  know. 
But  I'm  a  stranger  here.  When  I  was  here  as  a  boy  the 
city  lawyers  and  merchants  hadn't  got  the  habit  of 
coming  up  and  taking  farmhouses  for  the  summer.  Are 
you  boarding  or  have  you  a  place  of  your  own  ?  " 

She  had  got  very  red  and  was  hanging  her  head. 
Evidently  she  was  suffering  keenly  from  embarrassment. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Rix?  " 

"  I — I  rather  thought — after  yesterday — you  sort 
of — understood  about  us,"  she  stammered. 

He  laughed  encouragingly.  "  Good  Lord,  don't  be 
a  snob,"  cried  he.  "  What  do  I  care  about  where  you 
live?  I  don't  select  my  acquaintances  by  what's  in  their 


WHITE   MAGIC 


pockets,  but  by  what's  in  their  heads.  A  while  ago  you 
said  you  were  rich — and  then  you  said  you  weren't " 

"Oh,  I'm  all  upset,"  interrupted  she.  "Don't 
mind  the  way  I  act.  We  live  on  Red  Hill.  The  house 
up  there  belongs  to  father." 

"  That  big,  French  country  house  ?  "  said  Roger, 
surprised.  "  I've  seen  it.  I'll  be  glad  to  see  it  closer." 
He  painted  a  few  minutes.  "  I  suppose  you  put  on  a 
lot  of  style  up  there.  Well,  I've  got  evening  clothes 
somewhere  in  my  traps.  I  used  to  wear  them  occasion 
ally  in  Paris,  but  not  much.  Paris  doesn't  go  in  for 
formalities — at  least,  not  the  Paris  I  know.  .  .  .  What 
time's  the  dinner  ?  " 

"  Half  past  eight." 

He  groaned  and  laughed.  "  Just  my  bedtime.  But 
I'll  brace  myself  and  show  up  awake.  ...  I  wonder  if 
I've  got  an  evening  shirt."  He  happened  to  glance  at 
her,  was  struck  by  a  queer  gleam  in  her  gray  eyes. 
"What  now?" 

"  Nothing— nothing,"  she  hastened  to  assure  him. 
"  Just  some  silliness.  I'm  full  of  it." 

He  went  on  painting,  and  presently  resumed  his 
soliloquizing :  "  May  have  to  come  in  ordinary  clothes. 
But  that  wouldn't  be  a  killing  matter — would  it?  ... 
This  isn't  town — it's  backwoods.  .  .  .  I've  heard  some 
sorts  of  Americans  have  got  to  be  worse  than  the  Eng- 

94, 


'AN   UPSET   CANOE 


lish  for  agitation  about  petty  little  forms.  Are  yours 
that  sort?" 

"  Mother's  a  dreadful  snob,"  said  she  weakly. 

"  Well,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can,"  was  his  careless 
reply.  "  Perhaps  it'll  be  just  as  well  if  I  have  to  hor 
rify  her."  He  laughed  absently. 

"  I  hope  you'll  do  the  best  you  can,"  pleaded  she. 
"  For  my  sake." 

He  looked  amused.  "  You  don't  want  her  to  think 
you  picked  up  a  hooligan— eh  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  what  she  thinks — not  deep  down," 
cried  the  girl.  "  I  don't  care  what  anybody  thinks 
about  you — not  really.  But  on  the  surface — I'm — I'm 
a  horrible  snob,  too." 

"  All  right.     I'll  try  not  to  disgrace  you  utterly." 

She  reflected  absently.  Presently  she  interrupted 
his  painting  with  "  Heck  and  father  are  both  small. 
But  Hank — I  might  send  you  down  one  of  Hank's 
shirts.  He's  almost  as  big  as  you — in  the  way  of  size. 
And  I  could  get  my  maid  to  borrow  one  from  his 
valet " 

His  expression — amused,  intensely,  boyishly  amused 
— halted  her.  She  had  been  blushing.  She  flamed  scar 
let,  looked  as  if  she  were  about  to  sink  with  humiliation. 
Then  she  lifted  her  head  proudly  and  a  strange  light 
came  into  her  eyes — a  light  that  made  him  quail. 

95 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Anyway  you  please,"  she  said — and  the  words  came 
jerkily — "  Anything  you  please."     And  she  fled. 

He  stared  after  her  until  she  was  lost  to  view  among 
the  rocks  and  bushes.  He  held  the  brush  poised  before 
the  canvas — laid  it  down  again — gazed  at  the  radiant 
figure  he  was  conjuring  in  the  midst  of  his  picture.  He 
drew  a  huge  breath.  "  Well,  to-morrow  night  will  be 
the  finish,"  he  muttered.  "  And  it's  high  time." 


AN    ATTEMPT    TO    DAZZLE 

AT  a  quarter  past  eight  the  following  night  Roger 
drove  up  to  the  vast  entrance  to  Red  Hill  in  the  buggy 
he  had  hired  from  Burke,  the  Deer  Spring  liveryman. 
Five  lackeys  in  gorgeous  livery,  with  powdered  hair  and 
white  silk  stockings — five  strapping  fellows  with  the 
dumb  faces  and  the  stalwart  figures  the  rich  select  as 
menial  showpieces — appeared  in  the  huge  doorway. 
Three  of  them  advanced  to  assist  Roger.  A  fourth  dis 
appeared — to  telephone  the  stables  about  this  unex 
pected,  humble  equipage.  The  fifth  stood  upon  the 
threshold,  ready  to  take  the  hat  and  coat  of  the  even 
ing's  one  guest  from  without.  The  moon  was  high,  al 
most  directly  above  the  towers  of  the  great,  gray  cha 
teau.  By  the  soft,  abundant  light  Roger  surveyed  the 
splendid,  broad  terraces  that  broke  the  long  and  steep 
descent  to  Lake  Wauchong;  the  enormous  panorama  of 
untouched  wilderness  covering  little  mountain,  big  hill 
and  valley  far  as  the  eye  could  reach — all  of  it  the  prop 
erty  of  Daniel  Richmond.  Nearer,  in  the  immediate 
neighborhood  of  the  house  were  the  elaborations  of  the 

97 


WHITE   MAGIC 


skilled  landscape  gardener.  It  was  indeed  a  scene  of 
beauty — beauty  as  well  as  magnificence — an  interesting 
exhibit  of  the  grandiose  style  of  living  wherein  the  rich 
sacrifice  practically  all  the  joys  of  life  and  most  of  its 
comforts  for  the  sake  of  tickling  their  own  vanity  and 
stimulating  the  envy  of  their  fellow  beings. 

As  Roger  advanced  into  the  lofty,  gloomily  paneled 
entrance  hall — its  carvings  had  cost  a  fortune — he  drew 
off  his  overcoat,  disclosing  evening  dress  that  would 
have  passed  muster  on  a  figure  far  less  in  need  of  orna 
mentation  than  his  massive  yet  admirably  proportioned 
frame  with  its  climax  of  godlike  head.  And  the  most 
impressive  feature  of  that  head  was  the  frank  simplicity 
of  the  expression  of  the  face — that  expression  which 
marks  the  man  who  is  something  and  lifts  him  high 
above  the  flocks  and  herds  of  men  who  are  trying — not 
too  successfully — to  seem  to  be  something.  The  modern 
evening  dress  for  men  is  one  of  the  few  conventions — 
perhaps  the  only  one — not  designed  to  bolster  up  .insig 
nificance  by  reducing  all  to  the  same  level  of  smooth  ele 
gance.  It  is  one  of  the  curiosities  of  the  history  of 
manners  how  such  a  blunder  came  to  be  firmly  estab 
lished  as  a  propriety.  In  evening  dress,  as  in  no  other 
kind  of  costume  or  lack  of  costume,  the  personality,  the 
individuality,  of  the  wearer  obtrudes  itself  to  every  eye. 
At  a  glance  one  may  classify  any  number  of  men  by 

98 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO    DAZZLE 

their  qualities  and  quantities  of  head  and  heart.  Bea 
trice  Richmond,  coming  along  the  corridor  leading  into 
the  entrance  hall  from  the  east,  stopped  short  at  sight 
of  her  artist. 

She  herself,  in  an  evening  gown  of  pale  silver,  with 
lovely  shoulders  bare  and  graceful  head  looking  exqui 
site  under  its  crown  of  simply  arranged,  yellow  hair, 
was  quite  a  different  person  from  the  rather  hoydenish 
elf  of  wood  and  stream  whom  Roger  had  been  painting. 
But  she  had  lost,  instead  of  gaming,  in  the  transforma 
tion.  She  was  more  beautiful,  but  much  less  fascinat 
ing.  She  had  been  leveled  down  toward  the  conven 
tional.  She  merely  looked  what  the  newspapers  call  "  a 
beautiful,  young,  society  girl."  Roger,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  gained.  He  was  retaining  all  his  charm  of 
the  large,  the  free,  the  sincere,  the  natural ;  he  now  had 
in  addition  a  certain  refinement  that  yet  had  nothing  of 
conventionality's  cheapness.  It  was  somewhat  like  the 
difference  between  a  thoroughbred  uncurried  and  cur 
ried.  His  natural  proportions  showed  to  better  advan 
tage  in  this  sleekness  than  they  had  in  the  rough. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  demanded  Roger,  as  he  took 
her  hand.  "  Am  I  late,  or  is  it  the  wrong  evening?  " 

"  Neither,"  she  assured  him,  and  it  delighted  her  to 
note  that  he  did  not  dream  of  taking  to  himself  her  pale 
and  trembling  joy  in  his  splendor  of  manhood.  "  Noth- 

99 


WHITE   MAGIC 


ing  much.  Just — I  was  thinking  this  is  the  first  time 
we've  seen  each  other  in  civilized  dress." 

"  Oh !  "  Roger  evidently  thought  this  not  worth 
pursuing.  "  This  is  a  wonderful  place  you've  got  here. 
It'd  be  hard  to  blame  anybody  for  making  any  sort  of 
sacrifice  to  keep  it."  He  glanced  round  with  the  ex 
pression  of  a  man  used  to  such  surroundings.  In  fact, 
there  was  nothing  about  him  which  in  the  remotest  de 
gree  suggested  the  ill-at-easeness  she  had  anticipated 
and  feared.  She  felt  humbled.  He  was  again — and 
where  she  had  least  expected  it — rebuking  her  nervous 
ness  over  trifles  and  exaggeration  of  them.  As  they 
stood  in  the  corridor,  talking,  she  could  discover  not  a 
trace  of  the  awe  she  had  confidently  expected  and  hoped 
for.  He  treated  her  precisely  as  he  had  in  the  woods. 
But  she  was  not  discouraged.  She  felt  that  he  must  be 
deeply  impressed,  that  he  must  be  understanding  now 
why  she  had  taken  the  proposing  upon  herself — and 
must  be  appreciating  what  a  fine  thing  that  proposal 
was.  He  was  concealing  his  feelings,  reasoned  she — was 
perhaps  unconscious  of  them ;  later  on  they  would  show 
in  results. 

"  I'll  take  you  to  mother,"  said  she. 

They  turned  in  at  one  of  the  several  doors,  were 
facing  a  roomful  of  the  sort  of  people  one  always  finds 
in  houses  of  that  kind — carefully  dressed,  carefully 

100 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO 


patterned  people,  leading  the  monotonous  life  fashion 
imposes  upon  the  upper  class  throughout  the  world. 
Beatrice  looked  round,  then  looked  proudly  up  at  the 
huge,  young  man  whose  expression  made  him  seem  to 
tower  and  loom,  even  among  those  physically  his  equals. 
"  Father  isn't  here,"  she  explained.  "  He  hates  this 
sort  of  thing  for  himself,  though  he  tolerates  it  for  us." 

Roger  found  himself  being  welcomed  by  a  youngish, 
shrewd-looking  woman  with  a  cold,  discontented  face. 
Beatrice's  mother  was  merely  a  type  —  one  of  the  kind 
the  development  of  great  fortunes  is  turning  out  by  the 
score  in  every  city  and  large  town  from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco  :  an  indefatigable  and  not  unintelligent 
seeker  after  the  correct  aristocratic  pose.  She  was  in 
simple  black  velvet.  Her  graying  hair  made  her  too- 
sharp  face  softer  and  more  youthful.  Her  figure  was 
as  slim  and  straight  as  her  daughter's,  though  not 
without  evidences  of  toil  and  corset  manipulation  to  give 
it  that  girlish  appearance.  Peter  Vanderkief  —  Hanky 
—  was  beside  her. 

"  So,  you  are  really  here  ?  "  she  said  cordially  to 
Roger,  as  she  gave  him  a  warm  hand  clasp  and  the  smile 
of  an  old  friend.  "  I  can  hardly  believe  my  own  eyes." 

"  Impossible  to  resist,"  said  Roger.  "  It's  indeed  a 
pleasure  to  see  you  again.  How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  Vander 
kief?  " 

101 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Vanderkief  forced  a  smile  to  his  lips  and  extended  a 
tardy  hand.  But  his  brow  remained  sullen — not  the 
sullenness  of  suspicion  now,  but  of  jealousy. 

"  How  is  the  picture  coming  on?  "  asked  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  of  Roger. 

"  Oh,  you  know  how  those  things  go  with  me,"  was 
Roger's  subtly  noncommittal  reply. 

"  I  remember,"  laughed  Mrs.  Richmond.  "  You 
are  the  true  artist.  You're  to  take  in  Beatrice.  She 
tells  me  you  still  have  your  old  horror  of  strangers." 

"  Not  horror — shyness,"  protested  Roger,  with  no 
more  shyness  or  suggestion  of  it  than  a  well-brought-up 
child. 

Then  a  small,  slim,  dark  man — obviously  a  Conti 
nental  foreigner — joined  the  group.  In  dress  and  bear 
ing  he  was  a  most  elegant-looking  person — or,  rather, 
personage.  His  fine,  sensitive  face  was  exceedingly 
handsome.  "  Ah,  my  dear  Wade !  "  cried  he,  pronounc 
ing  the  name  as  if  it  were  spelled  Vahd. 

Roger's  face  lighted  up.  "  D'Artois !  "  exclaimed 
he,  and  they  shook  hands  with  enthusiasm. 

"  How  are  you  in  this  country  without  my  hearing 
of  it?"  said  Count  d'Artois.  "I'd  not  have  believed 
one  so  famous  could  move  about  quietly." 

Mrs.  Richmond  and  Beatrice — and  Hank — were  in 
tensely  interested  spectators  and  listeners.  D'Artois 

102 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO    DAZZLE 

turned  to  Mrs.  Richmond.  "  Vahd  must  be  extremely 
fond  of  you,  that  you  are  able  to  get  him.  In  Paris 
they  run  after  him  in  vain.  He  keeps  himself  hidden." 

Mrs.  Richmond  smiled  nervousty.  Peter  stared  de 
spondently  at  the  big  man  thus  suddenly  disclosed  as  a 
great  man.  As  for  Beatrice,  her  eyes  sparkled  and  her 
cheeks  flushed  proudly.  Roger's  expression  was  good- 
natured  tolerance,  perhaps  touched  with  annoyance. 
Dinner  was  announced  and  Beatrice  took  his  arm.  "  I 
might  have  known !  "  she  exclaimed,  gazing  up  at  him. 

He  reddened  and  frowned.  "  Known  what  ?  "  said 
he. 

"  That  you  were  famous." 

"  Trash !  "  observed  Roger  carelessly.  "  D'Artois 
is  polite.  Also,  he  is  my  friend." 

"  Oh,  I  know,"  said  the  girl.  "  At  lunch  he  was 
talking  about  you — what  a  great  painter  you  are — how 
rapidly  you,  though  an  American,  were  making  your 
self  famous  in  Europe.  We  didn't  dream  he  was  talk 
ing  of  you.  He  pronounces  your  name  peculiarly." 

"  I'm  enormously  hungry,"  said  Roger.  "  Where 
do  these  people  come  from  ?  I  had  no  idea  this  was  such 
a  fashionable  neighborhood." 

"  Oh,  they're  stopping  in  the  house.  Most  of  them 
came  last  night  and  to-day." 

Roger  ate  and  listened  to  the  girl  on  his  left — Alicia 
103 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Kinnear,  the  tennis  player.  Mrs.  Richmond  had  Count 
d'Artois  on  her  right,  and  he  talked  steadily  of 
"  Vahd."  She  listened  sourly  and  from  time  to  time 
shot  a  glance  down  the  table  at  him — the  glance  of  the 
alarmed  and  angry  mother  of  a  rather  unmanageable 
heiress.  Peter — directly  opposite  Roger — was  as  silent 
as  he,  but  instead  of  covering  his  silence  with  apprecia 
tion  of  the  Richmond  chef  he  stared  at  the  lace  inser 
tion  of  the  tablecloth  and  crumbled  and  messed  his  roll. 
Beatrice  was  the  happiest  of  the  thirty-two  at  that 
table.  She  was  radiant,  ecstatic. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  say  a  single  word  to  me?  " 
she  inquired  of  Roger  when  he  had  finished  the  game 
course.  "  You  can't  still  be  ravenously  hungry." 

"  I've  eaten  too  much,"  replied  he.    "  I'm  stupid." 

"  It  really  doesn't  matter,  as  I'll  see  you  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  I'm  not  working  to-morrow.  I've  got  to  go  to 
town." 

"Then  the  day  after?" 

"  I  may  stay  in  town  several  days." 

Her  expression  was  so  hurt,  so  depressed,  that  he 
felt  guilty,  mean. 

"  It's  terribly  hard  to  be  friends  with  you,  isn't  it?  " 
said  she. 

"  Because  I  refuse  to  spend  my  time  idling  about  ? 
104 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

You  must  choose  your  friends  in  your  own  class.     No 
good  ever  comes  of  going  out  of  it." 

"  I'm  surprised  at  your  talking  about  classes  in  this 
country." 

"  There  are  classes  everywhere — and  always  will  be. 
A  class  simply  means  a  group  of  people  of  similar  sym 
pathies,  tastes,  habits  and  means." 

"  Means !  "  said  she.  "  I  was  under  the  impression 
you  despised  money !  " 

"  I  ?  "  He  laughed.  "  No  more  than  I  despise 
food.  Money  is  a  kind  of  food.  I  want — and  I  try  to 
get — all  of  it  I  need.  My  appetite  is  larger  than  some, 
smaller  than  others.  I  take — or  try  to  take — in  pro 
portion  to  my  appetite." 

She  nodded  thoughtfully.  It  was  in  a  queer,  hesi 
tating  voice  that  she  went  on  to  ask :  "  And  you  really 
don't  care  to  be  rich?  " 

"  No  more  than  I  want  to  be  fat.  And  I  want  to  be 
poor  no  more  than  I  want  to  be  emaciated." 

Again  she  reflected.  Suddenly  she  asked :  "  Do  you 
like  this  house?  " 

"  Certainly.    It  is  beautiful  of  its  kind." 

"  I  mean,  wouldn't  you  like  to  have  such  a  house?  " 

"  God  forbid !  "  said  he,  and  she  knew  he  was  speak 
ing  sincerely.     "  I've  other  things  to  do  in  my  brief  life 
than  take  care  of  property." 
8  105 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  But  one  can  hire  those  things  done." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  said  he  to  close  the  subject; 
but  unconsciously  his  glance  traveled  round  the  room, 
rested  here  and  there  for  an  instant  on  the  evidences  of 
slovenly  housekeeping  which  always  disfigure  any 
great  house  for  a  critical  observer.  Her  glance  fol 
lowed  his.  Presently  she  colored,  for  she  understood. 
"  You  are  a  terrible  man,"  said  she.  "  You  see  every 
thing." 

"  I  wish  I  did,"  replied  he,  not  realizing  what  she 
had  in  mind.  "  Then  I'd  paint  the  picture  I  dream 
about." 

"  Do  you  like  these  people  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Certainly.  They  seem  very  nice.  They're  most 
attractive  to  look  at." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  be  friends  with  them  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  be,"  said  he.  "  We  have  too  little  in 
common." 

"  Don't  you  want  any  friends  ?  "  she  said  wistfully. 

"  I  have  friends.  I  shall  have  more.  People  of  my 
own  sort — people  who  can  give  me  what  I  want  and 
who  want  what  I  have  to  give." 

"  You  despise  us — don't  you  ?  "  cried  she. 

"  Haven't  I  told  you,"  protested  he,  "  that  I  don't 
despise  anybody?  Why  should  I  think  people  des 
picable  because  they  are  different?  " 

106 


'AN   ATTEMPT   TO   TtAZZLE 

"  You'd  despise  my  sister  Rhoda,  who  married  the 
Earl  of  Broadstairs  for  his  title." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  approve  of  her  for  taking  what  she 
wanted.  Why  should  she  have  been  a  hypocrite  and 
married  for  love  when  she  didn't  want  love,  but 
splurge?  " 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  was  so  anxious  to  have  you 
come  here  ?  " 

"  How  you  do  jump  about !  "  laughed  he.  "  Well — 
why?  To  smooth  down " 

"  No,"  she  interrupted,  coloring  furiously.  "  I 
must  be  truthful  with  you.  I  wanted  it  because  I 
thought  you'd  be  impressed." 

"  And  I  am,"  he  assured  her,  a  friendly  smile  of 
raillery  in  his  eyes.  "  I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a 
grand  person." 

"  Don't  jeer  at  me,"  she  pleaded.  "  I'm  in  earnest. 
It  isn't  fair  to  mock  at  anyone  who's  in  earnest — is  it?  " 

"  No.  It's  contemptible,"  said  he.  "  But  I  under 
stand  you  better  than  you  understand  yourself." 

In  defiance  of  conventionality  she  looked  at  him  with 
eyes  whose  meaning  no  observer  could  have  mistaken. 
He  glanced  hastily  round.  "  Don't  do  silly,  sensational 
things,"  said  he.  "  You're  making  us  both  ridiculous." 

"  I  don't  in  the  least  care,"  she  declared. 

He  said  sternly :  "  Now,  my  friend,  I'm  getting 
107 


WHITE  MAGIC 


just  a  little  tired  of  this.  You've  always  had  your  own 
way.  You  are  piqued  because  you  can't  make  a  fool  of 
me.  So,  you  are  willing  to  go  to  any  lengths.  I  under 
stand  you  perfectly." 

Her  gaze  was  steady  and  earnest — not  at  all  proper 
for  a  public  place.  "  Do  you  think  I'm  simply  coquet 
ting?  Don't  you  realize  that  I'm  in  earnest?  " 

"  Perhaps  you  think  you  are,"  admitted  he. 
"  You're  so  wrought  up  by  your  game  of  make-believe 
that  you  have  partly  convinced  yourself.  Luckily,  / 
remain  cool." 

"  If  I  were  a  poor  girl  you  wouldn't  act  like  this !  " 

"  How  did  I  act  when  I  thought  you  were  a  poor 
girl?" 

That  silenced  her  for  the  moment.  He  went  on: 
"  You  and  I  are  going  to  be  as  good  friends  as  our 
separate  lots  permit.  And  you  are  going  to  marry  in 
your  own  class — are  going  to  do  your  duty.  I'll  admit 
I  did  think  it  strange  that  a  girl  like  you  should  be  de 
liberately  marrying  for  money.  But  at  that  time  I 
thought  you  were  poor.  Now  that  I  have  seen  what 
your  life  is,  I  don't  blame  you.  I  can  see  how  you  sim 
ply  couldn't  give  up  all  this  magnificence  that  has  be 
come  necessity  to  you.  It'd  be  like  asking  me  to  give 
up  my  painting." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  puzzled  expression.  "  But 
108 


'AN  ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

I'm  not  marrying  to  keep  it.  My  father's  much  richer 
than  Hank.  Hank's  not  so  very  rich." 

Over  his  dark  features  slowly  crept  a  look  like  the 
fall  of  a  winter  evening.  "  Oh,"  said  he  coldly.  "  I 
thought —  No  matter." 

"What  did  you  think?" 

"  Naturally,  I  assumed — from  your  saying  so  much 
about  your  duty — I  assumed  your  father  had  lost,  or 
was  about  to  lose,  his  money." 

"  Mercy,  no !  "  exclaimed  she,  brightening  hope 
fully.  "  I  meant  my  family — my  social — duty." 

His  expression  was  quizzical.  "  To  be  sure — to  be 
sure.  I  never  thought  of  that." 

"  You  see,  we're  newcomers  among  fashionable  peo 
ple,  while  the  Vanderkiefs — they're  right  at  the  top  of 
the  heap." 

He  nodded  smilingly.  "  Of  course — of  course.  A 
very  sensible  marriage." 

"  But  I'm  not  going  to  marry  him,"  cried  she.  "  I 
never  intended  to." 

He  forgot  where  he  was  for  a  moment  in  his  aston 
ishment.  "  Then  why  did  you  engage  yourself  to 
him?" 

"  It  isn't  that  kind  of  engagement,"  she  explained 
sweetly.  "  I  did  it  because  you  acted  so.  But  I  was 
square  with  Peter.  I  warned  him  I  didn't  love  him  and 

109 


WHITE   MAGIC 


couldn't.  Our  engagement  is  simply  that  he  is  having 
a  chance  to  make  me  care  for  him  if  he  can." 

"  You'll  be  married  within  six  months,"  said  Roger 
lightly ;  and  he  lifted  a  glass  of  champagne  to  his 
lips. 

"  Not  to  him,"  replied  she.  "  If  to  anybody,  to  the 
man  I  love — the  man  who  loves  me." 

Her  words,  so  direct,  and  her  tone,  so  simple,  dis 
concerted  him  to  such  an  extent  that  he  choked  upon 
the  champagne.  While  he  was  still  coughing  Mrs. 
Richmond  rose,  and  the  men  were  left  alone.  Roger 
went  with  the  first  man  who  rejoined  the  women.  He 
made  straight  for  Mrs.  Richmond,  bade  her  good  night 
and  got  himself  out  of  the  house  before  Beatrice, 
hemmed  in  by  several  people,  could  extricate  herself  and 
intercept  him. 

He  did  the  homeward  drive  slowly,  preyed  upon  by 
swarms  of  disagreeable  thoughts.  His  experience  of 
women  had  taught  him  to  be  more  than  suspicious  of 
any  feminine  show  of  enthusiasm  for  a  man ;  women 
were  too  self-centered,  too  prudent  by  nature  and  train 
ing,  to  give  themselves  out  freely,  even  when  encouraged 
— unless  there  were  some  strong,  sordid  motive.  In  this 
case  sordid  motive  simply  could  not  be.  Nor  could  he 
conceive  any  practical  reason  why  Beatrice  should  pre 
tend  to  care  for  him — any  practical  reason  why  she 

110 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO    DAZZLE 

should  wish  to  marry  him.  He  felt  like  a  fool — as  a 
normal  man  not  swollen  with  conceit  is  bound  to  feel  in 
circumstances  such  as  Beatrice  had  made  for  him.  And 
what  vanity  she  had! — to  fancy  herself  so  fascinating 
that  it  simply  could  not  be  that  he  did  not  love  her. 
And  how  poor  an  opinion  she  had  of  him!  How  little 
respect  for  him ! — to  believe  that  his  reason  for  hiding 
his  love  was  awe  of  her  wealth  and  social  position. 
"  What  can  I  have  said  or  done  to  give  her  such  an  im 
pression  of  me?  "  He  could  recall  nothing  that  might 
have  been  twisted  by  her  into  a  suggestion  of  that  sort. 
No^the  mystery  was  without  a  clew.  "  Am  I  crazy, 
or  is  she  ?  "  he  demanded  of  the  moonlit  night.  .  .  . 
And  when  was  this  thing  to  stop?  Could  Fate  have 
dealt  more  irritatingly  with  him?  He  had  come  back 
home  to  make  the  grand  effort  of  his  life — to  concen 
trate  his  whole  being,  every  power  of  mind  and  body, 
every  thought  and  feeling,  upon  the  realization  of  his 
lifelong  dream.  And  here  was  this  girl,  a  nice  enough 
girl,  no  doubt,  an  unusually  attractive  girl,  as  girls  go, 
but  still  a  mere  idle,  time-wasting  woman  with  no  real 
seriousness — here  she  was,  harassing  him,  retarding  his 
work,  distracting  his  thoughts,  involving  him  with  a  lot 
of  people  who  had  neither  importance  nor  interest  for 
him.  In  spite  of  himself  he  was  being  dragged  into  her 
life,  whirled  about  by  her  caprices.  He  felt  not  only 

111 


WHITE   MAGIC 


like  a  fool,  but  like  a  weak  fool.  "  And  what  the  devil 
can  I  do  about  it?  How  can  I  be  insulting  to  a  sweet, 
friendly  girl  who  doesn't  realize  what  she's  doing  and 
has  been  so  brought  up  that  she  can't  be  made  to 
realize?  " 

The  only  hopeful  course  that  suggested  itself  was 
flight.  "  Yes — if  she  keeps  this  up  I'll  have  to  take  to 
my  heels."  There  his  sense  of  humor  came  to  the  rescue 
and  he  j  eered  at  himself.  "  A  delightful  person  I'm  be 
coming! — discussing  what  to  do  to  escape  from  a  girl 
who  is  madly  in  love  with  me ! " 

About  the  time  that  Burke,  the  liveryman,  was  once 
more  in  possession  of  his  "  rig,"  Beatrice,  undressing 
for  bed  with  the  aid  of  her  maid  Valentine,  received  a 
peremptory  summons  from  her  mother  by  way  of  her 
mother's  maid,  Marthe. 

Mrs.  Richmond  was  established  in  splendor  in  five 
big  rooms  on  the  second  floor  of  the  east  wing.  She  re 
ceived  her  daughter  in  her  office — a  luxurious,  library- 
like  room  with  few  signs  that  it  was  the  seat  of  the 
administration  of  a  household  of  forty-two  servants. 
Indeed,  Mrs.  Richmond  was  little  of  an  administrator. 
She  nagged  at  and  criticised  Pinney,  the  superintend 
ent,  and  Mrs.  Lambert,  the  housekeeper.  She  picked 
flaws  in  accounts,  usually  in  the  wrong  places.  She 


AN   ATTEMPT    TO    DAZZLE 

delivered  sharp  talks  on  economy  and  extravagance. 
But  things  were  run  sloppily,  as  is  bound  to  happen 
where  the  underlings  learn  that  there  is  no  such  thing 
as  justice,  that  criticism  is  as  likely  to  fall  upon  good 
work  as  upon  bad.  The  stealing  and  the  waste  grew 
apace ;  and  though  Richmond,  each  year,  largely  in 
creased  his  wife's  allowance  for  the  maintenance  of  their 
various  establishments,  she  was  never  able  to  put  by 
more  than  twenty-five  thousand  or  thereabouts  for  her 
own  secret,  privy  purse. 

Yet  she  was  a  most  industrious  woman,  up  early,  to 
bed  late.  How  did  she  occupy  her  time?  Chiefly  in 
taking  care  of  her  person.  She  was  not  highly  intelli 
gent  about  this.  She  wasted  much  of  the  time  and 
most  of  the  money  she  invested  in  the  tragi-comic  strug 
gle  for  youth.  Still,  she  got  some  results.  Perhaps, 
however,  most  of  her  success  in  keeping  down  fat  and 
wrinkles,  and  holding  in  her  hair  and  her  teeth  in  spite 
of  self-indulgence  as  to  both  food  and  drink,  was  due  to 
the  superb  constitution  she  had  inherited.  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  came  originally  from  Indiana ;  and  out  there  they 
grow — or,  in  former  days  grew — a  variety  of  the  human 
species  comparable  to  an  oak  knot — tough  of  fiber  be 
yond  belief,  capable  of  resisting  both  fire  and  steel,  both 
food  and  drink. 

There  was  small  resemblance  between  mother  and 
113 


WHITE   MAGIC 


daughter  save  in  the  matter  of  figure.  Beatrice's  sweet 
and  pretty  face  was  an  inheritance  from  the  Richmonds, 
though  not  from  her  father  direct.  Her  shrewdness 
and  persistence  were  from  her  father  direct.  The  older 
woman  in  the  pale-blue  dressing  gown  looked  up  sharply 
as  the  younger,  in  pink  and  white,  entered.  But  the 
sharp,  angry  glance  wavered  at  sight  of  the  resolute  lit 
tle  face  wearing  an  expression  of  faintly  amused  indif 
ference.  She  had  long  since  taken  her  daughter's 
measure — and  she  knew  that  her  daughter  had  taken 
hers. 

"  What  did  you  send  for  me  about  ? "  Beatrice 
asked. 

"  You  know  very  well." 

"Chang?" 

"  Chang!     What  does  that  mean?  " 

"  It's  my  pet  name  for  our  dear  old  friend  Roger — 
Roger  Wade.  He  calls  me  Rix.  I  call  him  Chang." 

Mrs.  Richmond  seemed  stupefied  for  the  moment  by 
this  cool  and  candid  shamelessness. 

"  I  hate  beating  round  the  bush,"  pursued  Beatrice. 
66  So,  I  might  as  well  tell  you  at  the  outset  that  I  intend 
to  marry  him." 

"  Beatrice ! "  exclaimed  her  mother,  electrified  into 
panic. 

"  You  know  me,  mother.     You  know  I  always  do 


"AN  ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

what  I  say  I'll  do.  Didn't  I  cut  off  my  hair  close  to  my 
head  when  I  was  eight  because  you  insisted  on  those 
foolish  curls?  Didn't  I " 

"  You  have  always  been  obstinate  and  troublesome," 
interrupted  her  mother.  "  I've  warned  your  father  you 
would  make  a  wreck  of  your  life.  But  he  wouldn't  heed 
me." 

"  Father  and  I  understand  each  other,"  said  Bea 
trice. 

"  You  think  he  will  consent  to  your  marrying  that 
common,  poor  artist?  "  demanded  her  mother  excitedly. 
"  Well,  for  once  you  are  mistaken.  In  some  ways  I 
know  your  father  better  than  you  do.  And  when  it 
comes  to  any  such  insanity  as  that " 

"  Don't  agitate  yourself,  mother." 

"  He'll  cut  you  off  if  you  do  it.  I  shouldn't  be  sur 
prised  if  he  should  turn  against  you  as  soon  as  he  hears 
you  have  thought  of  such  a  thing." 

Beatrice  listened  calmly.  "  That  remains  to  be 
seen,"  said  she. 

"  I  think  you've  lost  your  mind,  Beatrice,"  cried  her 
mother,  between  railing  and  wailing. 

"  I  think  so,  too,"  replied  Beatrice,  dreamy-eyed. 
"  Yes,  I'm  sure  I  have." 

"  This  isn't  a  bit  like  you." 

"  No,  not  a  bit.  I  thought  I  was  hard  as — as  you've 
115 


WHITE   MAGIC 


brought  me  up  to  be.  I  thought  I  cared  only  for  the 
material  things." 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  want  him"  said  the  girl,  lips  compressing  reso 
lutely.  Presently  she  added,  "  And  I'm  going  to  get 
him — at  any  cost." 

"  Trapped  by  an  adventurer !    You !  " 

Beatrice  laughed.  "  You  ought  to  hear  Chang  on 
that  subject." 

Her  mother  started  up.  "  You  don't  mean  it's  gone 
as  far  as  that  ?  " 

"As  what?" 

"  You  haven't  talked  about  such  things  to  him?  " 

"  Long  ago,"  said  the  daughter  coolly. 

Mrs.  Richmond,  all  a-quiver  with  fright  and  fury, 
moved  toward  the  door.  "  I  shall  telephone  for  your 
father  at  once !  " 

"  Do." 

"  We  will  have  you  put  away  somewhere." 

"  I'm  of  age." 

Mrs.  Richmond  could  not  altogether  conceal  how 
this  terse  reminder  had  discomfited  her.  "  Your  father 
will  know  how  to  deal  with  this,"  said  she,  trying  to 
cover  the  essential  weakness  of  the  remark  by  a  saV- 
agely  threatening  tone. 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  the  girl,  unmoved.  "  You  see — 
116 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

the  fact  is — Chang  has  turned  me  down.  I've  got  to 
get  father  to  bring  him  round — some  way." 

Her  mother,  at  the  door  into  the  anteroom  where 
the  telephones  were,  halted  and  whirled  round.  "  What 
are  you  talking  about  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  I  asked  Mr.  Wade  to  marry  me.  He  refused.  He 
is  still  refusing." 

Mrs.  Richmond,  hand  on  the  knob,  seemed  to  give 
careful  thought  to  each  of  these  three  highly  significant 
little  sentences.  Her  comment  was  even  more  com 
pressed;  she  laughed  harshly. 

"  I  saw  that  he  was  an  unusually  clever,  experienced 
man." 

Beatrice  looked  quickly  at  her  mother  with  shrewd, 
inquiring  eyes.  "  You  think  he's  afraid  father  will  cut 
me  off?" 

"  Of  course  that's  it." 

"  I  wonder?  "  said  the  girl  thoughtfully.  "  I  hope 
so — yet  I'm  afraid." 

Mrs.  Richmond's  mouth  dropped  open  and  her  eyes 
widened  with  horror.  At  last  she  said  witheringly : 
"You— hope— so!" 

The  girl  did  not  answer ;  she  was  deep  in  thought. 

Her  mother  sat  down  near  the  door.  "  You  know 
so.  I  see  vou  are  more  sensible  than  I  feared.  You 

v 

know  he's  simply  looking  for  money." 

117 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  You  don't  understand  me  at  all,  mother."  Bea 
trice  leaned  toward  her  mother  across  the  arm  of  the 
sofa.  "  Haven't  you  ever  wanted  anything — wanted  it 
so  intensely,  so — so  fiercely — that  you  would  take  it  on 
any  terms — would  do  an}^thing  to  get  it?  " 

"  Beatrice — that  is — shocking !  "  As  the  word 
shocking  had  lost  its  force  in  the  general  emancipation 
from  the  narrow  moralities  that  is  part  of  fashionable 
life,  Mrs.  Richmond  decided  to  bolster  it  up  with  some 
thing  having  real  strength.  "  Also,  it  is  ridiculous," 
she  added. 

"  Father  would  understand,"  said  the  girl  pensively. 
"  He  has  that  sort  of  nature.  I  inherit  it  from  him. 
You  know,  they've  almost  ruined  and  jailed  him  several 
times  because  he  got  one  of  those  cravings  that  simply 
have  to  be  satisfied." 

No  loyal  wife  could  have  taken  a  better  air  and  tone 
than  did  Daniel  Richmond's  wife  as  she  rebuked :  "  You 
are  talking  of  your  father,  Beatrice !  " 

"  Yes — and  I  love  him — adore  him — just  because  he 
does  things.  He's  good — good  as  gold.  But  he  isn't 
afraid  to  be  bad.  He  doesn't  hesitate  to  take  what  he 
wants  because  he  hasn't  the  nerve." 

"  Your  father  has  been  lied  about — maligned — en 
viously  slandered  by  his  enemies." 

"  Don't  talk  rot,  mother,"  interrupted  the  girl. 
118 


ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 


"  You  know  him  as  well  as  I.  You're  afraid  of  him. 
I'm  not.  He  knows  he  can  rule  you  through  your  love 
of  luxury  —  just  as  he  makes  Rhoda  and  her  earl  crawl 
and  fawn  and  lick  his  boots  —  and  the  boys  —  even  Con- 
ny,  who's  only  fourteen.  Oh,  I  don't  blame  him  for 
making  people  cringe,  when  he*  can.  I  like  to  do  that, 
myself." 

The  mother  regarded  this  daughter,  so  mysterious 
to  her.  with  mingled  admiration  and  terror.  "  You  are 
frightful—  frightful!" 

Beatrice  seemed  to  accept  this  as  a  rare,  agreeable 
compliment.  "  I've  got  the  courage  to  say  what  I 
think.  And  —  really,  I'm  not  so  frightful.  I  used  to 
imagine  I  was.  But  "  —  she  paused,  laughed  softly,  a 
delightful  change  sweeping  over  her  face  —  "  just  ask 
Chang  !  " 

To  Mrs.  Richmond  the  words  and  the  manner  of 
them  were  like  an  impudent  defiance.  They  drove  her 
almost  beside  herself  with  alarm  and  anger.  "  Your 
father'll  soon  bring  you  to  terms  !  You'll  see,  miss  ! 
You'll  see."  And  she  nodded  her  head,  laughing 
viciously,  an  insane  glitter  in  her  bright,  brown  eyes. 
"  Yes,  you'll  find  out  !  " 

Beatrice  was  not  in  the  least  impressed. 

"  All  father  can  do  is  to  cut  me  off.  I've  got  five 
thousand  a  year  in  my  own  right  —  enough  to  keep  body 

119 


WHITE   MAGIC 


and  soul  together.     So,  he  knows  he's  powerless  with 
me." 

"  What  a  fool  he  was,"  cried  her  mother,  "  to  give 
you  that  money." 

"  It  isn't  altogether  the  money,"  pursued  Beatrice. 
"  You've  got  nearly  half  a  million  put  by  out  of  the 
household  allowances.  And  your  jewels  make  as  much 
more.  Yet  you're  afraid  of  him." 

Instead  of  becoming  furious,  Mrs.  Richmond  sank 
weakly  back  in  her  chair.  "  He's  my  husband,"  she 
said  appealingly.  "  You  don't  understand  how  much 
that  means — not  yet." 

Beatrice  laughed  softly.  "  No,  but  I'm  beginning 
to,"  said  she.  However,  she  did  not  pursue  that  branch 
of  the  subject — did  not  force  her  mother  into  the  cor 
ner  of  admission  that  the  real  source  of  Richmond's 
power  over  her  was  not  wifely  duty  nor  yet  motherly 
feeling,  but  love  of  the  vast  and  costly  luxury  which 
being  Richmond's  indulged  wife  got  for  her.  All  the 
girl  wished  to  accomplish  was  to  reduce  her  mother 
to  that  pliable  state  of  mind  in  which  she  would  cease 
to  be  the  active  enemy  of  her  projects.  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  was  now  down  to  that  meek  weakness;  through 
the  rest  of  their  talk  her  manner  toward  her  daughter 
was  friendly,  sisterly,  remonstrant  rather  than  denun 
ciatory. 

120 


'AN   'ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

"  You  don't  realize  what  is  the  matter  with  you, 
Beatrice,"  said  she. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  me?  " 

"  You  wouldn't  understand —  I  couldn't  explain — 
You  have  had  no  experience.  If  you  had,  you'd  realize 
and  control  yourself." 

"  All  I  know  is,  I  must  have  him." 

"  That's  it,  exactly,"  cried  her  mother.  "  That's 
the  way  it  affects  anyone  who  gets  possessed  by  it.  If 
you  married  under  a  spell  of  that  sort  you'd  wonder 
at  yourself  afterwards — when  you  had  got  enough." 

"  But — I  wouldn't  '  get  enough,'  as  you  call  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  would.     They  always  do." 

"Always?" 

Mrs.  Richmond  shifted  ground.  "  You  will  never 
get  your  father  to  consent — never !  " 

"  That's  the  least  of  my  troubles,"  said  Beatrice 
confidently.  "  The  only  question  is :  How  could  he  help 
me  to  bring  over  Roger?  " 

"  How  can  you  be  so  silly,  child ! "  exclaimed  the 
mother.  "That  fellow  would  jump  at  you  just  as 
soon  as  he  found  your  father  consenting."  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  smiled.  "  And  when  he  did  jump  at  you —  Oh, 
I  know  you  so  well !  You'd  laugh  at  him  and  turn 
your  back  on  him  then." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Beatrice  absently.     "  I  wonder." 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I'm  sure  of  it,"  cried  her  mother  with  energy. 

"  I— don't— know,"  replied  the  girl.  "  It  isn't  a 
bit  like  me  to  marry  out  of  my  own  class.  At  first  I 
laughed  at  myself  for  even  imagining  I'd  really  marry 
Chang.  I  was  fascinated  by  him — everything  he  said 
and  did — and  the  way  he  said  or  did  it — the  way  his 
hair  grew — the  way  his  clothes  fit — the  way  he  blew 
smoke  out  of  his  mouth — the  way  he  held  his  palette — 
and  his  long  brushes —  You  see,  mother,  I  was  infatu 
ated  with  him.  Isn't  he  splendid  to  look  at?  " 

"  He  certainly  is  strikingly  handsome,"  admitted 
Mrs.  Richmond.  "  But  hardly  more  so  than  Peter." 

"  Oh,  mother !  "  laughed  out  Beatrice.  "  You  are 
not  that  undiscriminating.  There's  all  the  difference 
between  them  that  there  is  between — between  a  god  and 
a  mere  mortal."  Contrasting  the  two  men  seemed  to  fire 
the  girl  afresh.  "Yes,  I  do  want  Chang,"  she  cried. 
"  I'd  be  enormously  proud  to  have  such  a  man  to  exhibit 
as  my  husband." 

"  But  think,  my  dear !    He's  nobody !  " 

"  You  heard  d'Artois " 

"  Yes — but  if  he  were  to  try  to  marry  d'Artois's 
sister " 

"  I  know.  I  understand,"  said  Beatrice  impatient 
ly.  "  I  wish  he  were  a  real  somebody.  Still,  he  prob 
ably  comes  of  as  good  a  family  as  we  do."  She  rose 


~AN   ATTEMPT   TO    DAZZLE 

and  faced  her  mother.  "  When  I'm  with  him  I'm 
ashamed  of  being  so — -so  cheap.  When  I  see  him  be 
side  Peter  I'd  laugh  at  anybody  who  talked  such  snob 
bishness.  But —  Oh,  I've  been  so  rottenly  brought 
up !  No  wonder  he  won't  have  me !  If  he  knew  me  as 
I  am  he'd  spurn  me."  Her  expression  softened  to  lov 
ing  tenderness.  "  No,  he  wouldn't.  He's  big  and 
broad.  He'd  understand  and  sympathize — and  try  to 
help  me  to  be  worthy  of  him.  And  I  will  be !  " 

Her  mother  looked  at  her  with  the  uncertain  ex 
pression  one  sees  on  the  faces  of  the  deaf  when  they 
are  making  pretense  of  having  heard  and  understood. 
"  You're  very  queer,  Beatrice,"  said  she. 

"  Ain't  I,  though !  "  exclaimed  the  girl.  "  I  guess 
you  were  right  a  while  ago.  I  guess  I'm  crazy." 

"  Don't  you  think  we'd  better  go  abroad  right 
away,  instead  of  waiting  till  June?  " 

"  I've  thought  of  that.  But  the  idea  of  getting  out 
of  reach  of  him  sets  me  wild.  I'd  not  be  able  to  stand 
it  to  Sandy  Hook.  I'd  spring  overboard  and  swim 
back  to  see  what  he  was  about.  .  .  .  Were  you  ever  in 
love,  mother  ?  " 

"Of  course,"  replied  Mrs.  Richmond.  "But  I 
didn't  fall  in  love  with  a  nobody  with  nothing — at  least, 
a  man  with  no  prospects." 

"  Then  you  don't  know  what  love  is !     Oh,  it  was 


WHITE   MAGIC 


delicious — caring  about  him — crazy  about  him — trem 
bling  all  over  if  he  spoke — shivering  if  he  happened  to 
look  at  me  in  that  calm,  big  way  of  his — and  that  when 
I  felt  he  might  be  little  more  than  a  tramp,  for  all  I 
knew." 

There  was  no  sympathy  in  the  mother's  face,  noth 
ing  but  plain  aversion  and  dismay.  Yet  she  dared  not 
speak  her  opinion.  She  knew  Beatrice.  "  I'm  afraid 
he's  very  artful,  dear,"  she  ventured  to  say.  "  He 
seems  to  understand  exactly  how  to  lead  you  on." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  replied  Beatrice.  "  I  may  be 
wrong.  I  often  doubt.  I'm  like  father — very  suspi 
cious  by  nature.  Of  course,  it's  possible  he  is  play 
ing  with  me.  If  he  is,  why,  it's  the  most  daring,  splen 
did  game  a  man  ever  played,  and  he  deserves  to  win. 
.  .  .  No,  mother.  He's  not  playing  with  me.  I  tried 
to  win  him  when  he  thought  I  was  a  poor  nobody.  It 
didn't  go.  Then  I  thought  he  was  holding  back  be 
cause  he  was  poor;  and  I  tried  to  win  him  by  showing 
him  what  he  would  be  getting.  I'm  still  trying  that 
•  But  it  doesn't  seem  to  be  working  any  better  than  the 
other." 

"Beatrice,  I'm  amazed.  What  must  he  think  of 
you?" 

"  Now,  you  know  very  well,  mother,  that  a  girl  in 
my  position  has  to  do  the  courting  if  the  man's  poor 


AN   ATTEMPT   TO   DAZZLE 

and  has  any  self-respect.  In  fact,  I've  got  a  notion 
that  the  women,  in  any  circumstances,  do  a  lot  more 
courting  than  is  generally  supposed." 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  is  in  this  day,"  said  her 
mother  stiffly.  "  But  in  my  day 

"  You  wouldn't  own  up,  mother  dear,"  laughed  the 
girl.  "  And  your  manner  is  suspiciously  like  an  at 
tempt  to  hide  guilt." 

"  I'm  sure  of  one  thing,"  said  Mrs.  Richmond 
tartly.  "  In  my  day  children  did  not  insult  their 
parents." 

"Now,  don't  get  cross  at  my  joking,  dear,"  ca 
joled  the  daughter,  kissing  her  mother's  well-arranged, 
gray  hair  so  lightly  that  there  could  be  no  danger  of 
disarranging  it. 

As  if  it  had  all  suddenly  come  over  her  again  Mrs. 
Richmond  cried  despairingly,  "  What  will  your  father 
say !  He'll  blame  me.  He'll  say  things  that  will  pros 
trate  me." 

"  If  you'll  not  mention  it  to  him,"  said  Beatrice, 
66  I'll  guarantee  that  he'll  not  blame  you.  Hank  is 
going  away  in  the  morning.  You  and  Hector  can  pre 
tend  to  know  nothing.  I'll  take  it  up  with  him." 

Her  mother  looked  somewhat  reassured,  but  said 
dubiously,  "  He'll  give  it  to  me  for  not  having  guarded 
you  more  closely." 

125 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I'll  fix  all  that,"  said  Beatrice  with  infectious 
confidence.  "  Trust  me." 

Mrs.  Richmond  gave  her  a  look  of  gratitude  so 
deep  that  it  was  almost  loving.  "  If  you'd  only  be 
sensible  and  put  this  foolishness  out  of  your  mind," 
she  said  plaintively. 

Rix  laughed  gayly,  then  softly.  "  It  isn't  in  my 
mind,"  said  she.  "  It's  in  another  place — one  I  didn't 
know  about  until  I  met  him."  She  looked  at  herself  ad 
miringly  in  a  long  mirror  that  happened  to  be  at  hand. 
"  Don't  you  see  how  much  better  looking  I've  grown 
of  late  ?  You  understand  why.  Oh,  I'm  so  happy !  " 

Her  mother  gave  a  sigh  of  helplessness.  Rix 
laughed  again  and  went  away  to  her  own  rooms — to 
try  to  write  poetry ! 


VI 

THE    GUILE    OF    INNOCENCE 

THE  following  morning  it  was  not  yet  half  past 
six  and  Chang  had  just  reached  the  lake  when  her 
canoe  shot  round  the  bend.  He  stood  a  few  yards  from 
the  water's  edge,  observing  her  graceful  maneuverings. 
She  controlled  that  canoe  as  perfectly  as  if  it  had  been 
part  of  her  own  body.  He  was  too  much  the  artist 
to  be  able  to  keep  a  stern  countenance  in  face  of  so  en 
chanting  a  spectacle.  Also,  her  features — her  yellow 
hair,  the  ever-changing,  gray  eyes,  the  mobile  and  rosy 
mouth,  the  delicate  skin — had  too  much  of  the  soft  and 
dazzling  loveliness  of  the  morning.  "  If  a  man  wished 
to  let  himself  be  bewitched,"  thought  he,  "  there  would 
be  an  ideal  enchantress."  She  was  one  of  the  few 
women  he  had  known  who  had  worn  well — about  the 
only  one,  indeed.  When  he  first  knew  her  he  had  not 
thought  that  she  was  especially  attractive,  beyond  the 
freshness  that  is  the  almost  universal  birthright  of 
youth.  But  as  he  had  studied  her,  as  he  had  observed 
and  felt  her  varied  moods,  her  charm  had  grown. 
Even  things  about  her,  in  themselves  unattractive,  were 

127 


WHITE   MAGIC 


fascinating  in  the  glow  and  throb  of  her  naturally 
vivid  personality — not  an  intellectual  personality,  not 
at  all,  but  redolent  of  the  fresh  fragrance  of  the  pri 
mal,  the  natural.  "  An  ideal  enchantress,"  he  mut 
tered,  and  the  lot  he  had  sternly  marked  out  for  him 
self  seemed  bare  and  lonely,  like  a  monk's  cell  beside 
the  glories  of  the  landscape  beyond  its  narrow 
window. 

"  How  can  you  be  out  of  humor  on  such  a  morn 
ing?  "  cried  she,  as  the  prow  of  her  canoe  slid  gently 
out  of  the  water  and  she  rose  to  her  feet. 

"  On  the  contrary,  I'm  in  a  fine  humor."  And  his 
look  and  voice  bore  him  out.  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  I  was 
going  to  town  to-day?  I  simply  took  my  walk 
here." 

She  laughed.  "  Neither  did  I  expect  you.  I  sim 
ply  took  my  outing  here."  And  when  he  blushed  in 
confusion  and  annoyance,  she  laughed  the  more  gayly. 

66  You  are  so  amusing,"  she  said  tenderly. 

"  I'll  admit,"  said  he,  "  that  I  thought  there  was 
a  chance  you  might  come.  And  I  thought,  if  you  did, 
it  would  be  the  best  opportunity  to  have  a  plain  talk 
with  you." 

She  seated  herself,  or,  rather,  balanced  herself,  on 
the  forward  curve  of  her  canoe.  He  occupied  a  big 
bowlder  near  the  maple  under  which  he  always  painted. 

128 


THE   GUILE    OF   INNOCENCE 

"  I  see,"  observed  she,  "  that  you  are  getting  ready 
to  say  a  lot  of  things  you  don't  mean.  How  you  will 
thank  me  some  day  for  having  been  patient  with  you !  " 
He  averted  his  eyes,  muttered  something  incoherent, 
searched  confusedly  for  his  cigarettes.  "  You  always 
keep  the  case  in  your  lower  left-hand  waistcoat  pock 
et,"  said  she.  And  sure  enough,  there  it  was — to  his 
increased  confusion.  But,  when  their  glances  met,  the 
twinkle  in  her  gray  eyes — merry  as  the  sunbeams  that 
were  changing  the  yellow  of  her  hair  to  the  reddish 
yellow  of  the  finest  gold — proved  irresistible. 

"  It's  simply  impossible  to  be  serious  with  you," 
cried  he,  in  what  he  would  have  liked  to  think  a  vexed 
tone. 

"  And  why  should  you  be  ? "  inquired  the  girL 
"  You  used  to  warn  me  that  I  took  everything,  myself 
included,  far  too  seriously.  Now,  you're  getting  into 
the  habit  of  taking  yourself,  oh,  so  solemnly ! — which 
is  far  worse  than  seriously.  You're  more  like  a  dis 
mal  preacher,  a  man  with  a  mission,  than  an  artist  with 
the  joy  of  living  laughing  in  his  heart.  You  made  a 
great  hit  last  night." 

He,  off  his  guard,  looked  as  pleased  as  a  boy  that 
has  just  got  a  present  of  a  gun.  "  Glad  I  didn't  dis 
grace  you.  You  remember  how  nervous  you  were 
about  it." 

129 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Your  talk  about  that  shirt  was  a  little  disturbing. 
It  came  out  well.  At  least,  I  think  it  did.  People  don't 
notice  your  clothes.  They  look  at  you" 

"  Now,  how  am  I  to  say  what  I've  got  to  say,  if 
you  keep  on  like  that  ?  "  demanded  he.  "  Oh,  but  you 
are  crafty !  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  lectured,  Chang." 

He  settled  himself  with  an  air  of  inflexible  resolu 
tion.  "  I'm  not  going  to  lecture,"  said  he.  "  I'm 
going  to  deliver  myself  of  a  few  words  of  good  sense 
and  then  say  good-by." 

She  looked  upon  the  ground,  and  her  expression 
wrenched  his  tender  heart.  In  vain  he  told  himself 
that  he  was  an  egotistical  fool ;  that  the  girl  was  prob 
ably  more  than  half  faking,  to  work  upon  him ;  that  the 
other  half  of  the  feeling  in  her  expression  was  the 
flimsiest  youthful  infatuation,  certain  to  disappear  in 
a  few  days,  a  few  weeks  at  most.  There,  before  him, 
was  the  look  of  suffering.  And  when  she  lifted  her 
eyes  for  an  instant  they  said  more  touchingly  than  her 
voice  could  have  said  it :  "  Why  don't  you  strike  and 
have  done  with  me?  I  am  helpless." 

He  got  up,  tossed  his  cigarette  far  into  the  lake. 
"  This  is  too  rotten ! "  he  cried.  "  How  in  the  devil 
did  I  ever  get  into  such  a  mess  ?  " 

She  waited,  meek,  silent,  pathetic. 
130 


THE    GUILE    OF   INNOCENCE 

"  I've  about  decided  to  go  away — to  go  back  to 
Paris,"  said  he. 

"  Maybe  we  can  cross  together,"  said  she.  "  Moth 
er  and  I  are  going  soon.  She  wants  me  to  go  right 
away — there,  or  anywhere,  wherever  I  wish." 

He  dropped  to  the  bowlder  again,  a  sense  of  help 
lessness  weakening  his  backbone  and  his  knees.  Of 
what  use  to  fly?  This  girl  was  free — had  the  means 
to  travel  wherever  she  chose,  to  stay  as  long  as  she 
liked.  In  his  excitement  he  saw  visions  of  himself  being 
pursued  round  and  round  the  earth — till  his  money 
gave  out,  and  he,  unable  to  fly  farther,  was  overtaken 
and  captured.  He  began  to  laugh — laugh  until  the 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  she.  "Tell  me.  I  want  to 
laugh." 

"  You  are  making  me  into  an  imbecile,"  replied  he. 
"  I  was  laughing  at  myself.  I'm  glad  I  had  that  laugh. 
I  think  I  can  talk  sensibly  now — without  making 
myself  ridiculous."  Once  more  he  put  on  a  highly  im 
pressive,  highly  ominous  air  of  sober  resoluteness.  He 
began :  "  A  short  time  ago  you  did  me  the  honor  of 
telling  me  you  were  in  love  with  me." 

"  Yes.  Do  you — do  you  think  poorly  of  me  for 
having  been  frank  ?  "  And  the  gray  eyes  looked  in 
nocent  anxiety. 

131 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  No,  I  don't,"  confessed  he.  "  As  a  general  prop 
osition,  I  think  I  should  have  thought — well,  queerly 
— of  a  girl  who  came  out  with  such  a  startler  on  no 
especial  provocation.  But  in  this  case  the  effect  is  puz- 
zlingly  different.  Probably  because  I  can't  in  the  least 
believe  you." 

"  Oh,  no — that's  not  the  reason,"  cried  she.  "  It 
was  only  right  that  I  should  speak  first.  You  see, 
when  the  girl's  poor,  and  marrying  her  is  going  to 
put  the  man  to  great  expense — it'd  be — be — down 
right  impertinent  for  her  to  say  such  a  thing.  It'd 
be  as  if  she  asked  him  to  support  her  for  life." 

"  Maybe  so,"  said  he.  "  The  money  side  of  it 
didn't  occur  to  me.  Naturally,  you,  who  have  much 
money,  would  think  more  about  it  than  I,  who  have 
little." 

"Would  you  be  afraid  to — to  marry — a  woman 
who  had  a  lot  more  money  than  you  ?  " 

"Not  in  the  least,"  declared  he.  "How  ridicu 
lous  ! " 

A  chill  of  suspicion  crept  into  her  face. 

"  I  don't  want  to  marry,  and  I  shan't  marry,"  con 
tinued  he.  "  But  if  I  did  want  to  marry,  and  wanted 
the  woman,  I'd  not  care  who  she  was  or  what  she  was 
or  what  she  had  or  hadn't — so  long  as  she  was  what  I 
wanted.  And  I  don't  think  even  you,  crazy  as  you  are 


THE   GUILE   OF   INNOCENCE 

about   money,    could   suspect   me   of   having   the   same 
mania." 

His  tone  and  his  manner  would  have  convinced  any 
one.  They  convinced  her.  She  drew  a  huge  sigh  of 
relief.  "I'm  glad  you  said  that — in  just  that  way," 
said  she. 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  see  what  difference  it  makes," 
replied  he.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  you've  been  sus 
pecting  me  of  wanting  your  money?  " 

She  hung  her  head  foolishly.  "  I've  got  a  horrid 
mind,"  confessed  she.  "  It  came  to  me  that  maybe  you 
might  be  holding  out  for  fear  father'd  cut  me  off." 

"You  have  got  your  nerve!"  ejaculated  he.  "I 
never  heard  of  the  like ! — never  !  " 

"  Now  you're  disgusted  with  me,"  cried  she.  "  I 
know  I  oughtn't  to  have  told  you.  But  I  can't  help 
telling  you  everything.  It  isn't  fair,  Chang,  to  think 
I'm  worse  than  most  girls,  just  because  I  let  you  see 
into  me.  You  know  it  isn't  fair." 

"  You're  right,  Rix,"  said  he  impulsively ;  and  the 
sense  that  he  had  wronged  her  pushed  him  on  to  say, 
"  It's  your  frankness  and  your  courage  that  I  admire 
so  much.  I  wish  you  weren't  attractive.  Then  it'd  be 
easier  for  me  to  do  what  I've  got  to  do." 

Her  face  became  radiant.  "  Then  you  do  care 
for  me?  " 

133 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Why,  of  course  I  do,"  said  he  heartily — but  in 
a  tone  most  unsatisfactory  to  ears  waiting  to  drink  in 
what  her  ears  longed  for.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  could 
stand  so  much  of  anyone  I  didn't  like?  " 

"  You  aren't  frank  with  me ! "  said  she  a  little  sul 
lenly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  You've  some  reason  why  you  won't  let  yourself 
saj  you  l°ve  me.  And  you  won't  tell  me  what  it  is." 

"  How  many  times  have  I  got  to  tell  you,"  cried 
he  heatedly,  "  that  I  don't  care  for  you  in  that  way — 
any  more  than  you  care  for  me?  " 

She  was  all  gentleness  and  freedom  from  guile. 
"  But  every  time  you  say  that,  you  say  it  angrily — 
and  then  I  know  you  don't  mean  it." 

"  But  I  do  mean  it !  " 

Her  face  looked  stubbornly  unconvinced. 

"  I  tell  you,  I  do  mean  it !  "  he  repeated  with  angry 
energy. 

"  You  are  mad  at  yourself  for  liking  me  so  much." 

He  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  "  Well,  have  it  your 
way — if  it  pleases  you  better  to  think  so."  He  rose 
and  stood  before  her,  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  the 
outside  pockets  of  his  loose  sack  coat.  "  Whatever  I 
may  or  may  not  think  of  you,  I  am  not  going  to  marry 
anybody.  Do  I  make  myself  clear?" 


THE    GUILE    OF   INNOCENCE 

66  But  everybody  gets  married,"  said  she  innocently. 
"  Oh,  Chang,  why  do  you  want  to  be  eccentric?  "  And 
up  into  his  gazed  the  childlike  eyes.  "  You  told  me 
yourself  that  eccentricity  was  a  stupid  caricature  of 
originality." 

"  Eccentric — eccentric,"  he  muttered,  for  lack  of 
anything  else  to  say.  What  an  impossible  creature  to 
talk  seriously  with!  She  was  always  flying  off  at  a 
tangent.  Controlling  his  exasperation  he  said  in  a 
low,  intense  voice:  "Eccentric  or  not,  I  am  not  going 
to  marry.  Do  you  understand?  I — am — not — going 
— to — marry." 

"Why  do  you  get  angry?"  she  pleaded  sweetly. 
"  It's  unreasonable.  I  can't  make  you  marry  me — can 
I?  I  don't  want  to  marry  you  if  you  don't  want  to 
marry  me — do  I?  " 

He  strode  away,  back  again  to  where  she  sat  in 
graceful  ease  on  the  end  of  her  canoe.  "  I'm  not  so 
thundering  sure  of  that !  "  he  cried.  "  By  Jove,  you 
sometimes  make  me  feel  as  if  I  had  a  halter  round  my 
neck.  Where  did  you  get  this  infernal  insistence?  " 

"  From  my  father,"  said  she,  quiet  and  calm.  "  I 
can't  help  it.  When  my  heart  gets  set  on  a  thing  I 
hold  on  like  grim  death." 

He  looked  round,  like  a  man  dreaming.  "  Am  I 
awake?  Am  I  really  awake?  "  he  demanded  of  lake  and 

135 


WHITE   MAGIC 


trees  and  stones.  Then  he  addressed  her,  "  What  are 
you  up  to?  I  know  you  don't  love  me.  I  know  you 
don't  want  to  marry  me.  Then  why  do  you  do  it?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  I  just  can't  help  it. 
Sometimes  when  I'm  alone  and  think  over  things  I've 
said  to  you  I  can't  believe  it  was  really  I — or  that  such 
words  really  were  uttered.  .  .  .  There  can  be  only  one 
explanation." 

"And  what  is  that?  For  Heaven's  sake,  let's 
have  it." 

"  That  I  know  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  that 
you  love  me." 

"  Really !  "  exclaimed  he,  with  a  fantastic  attempt 
at  scornful  irony;  and  away  he  strode,  to  halt  at  his 
former  seat,  the  big  bowlder  under  the  tree.  "  Really !  " 
he  repeated. 

"  You  must  see  it  yourself,"  urged  she,  serious  and 
earnest.  "  Honestly,  Chang,  could  a  girl  talk  to  you 
as  I  have — a  girl  as  proud  and  as  modest  as  I  am — 
and  with  no  experience — could  she  do  it,  unless  she 
were  absolutely  sure  she  was  talking  to  a  man  who 
loved  her  ?  " 

There  was  something  akin  to  terror  in  his  eyes — 
the  terror  of  a  man  who  feels  himself  sinking  in  ocean 
or  quicksand  and  looks  about  in  vain  for  aid.  Down 
he  sat,  to  stare  out  over  the  shining,  sparkling  lake. 

136 


THE   GUILE   OF   INNOCENCE 

"  You  know  I'm  right,"  said  she  with  quiet  con 
viction. 

Up  he  started  again  in  agitation.     "  I  must  be  get 
ting  weak-minded !  "   he  cried.      "  Or  are  you  hypno- 
;  tizing  me  ?  " 

"  If  anybod}T's  done  any  hypnotizing  I  guess  it 
must  be  you  that  have  hypnotized  me." 

"  Maybe  so,"  said  he,  with  a  confused  gesture. 
"  Maybe  so.  Lord  knows.  I  don't." 

"  And  now,"  pursued  she,  "  that  it's  settled  that  we 
love  each  other " 

"  What !  "  he  cried,  with  some  of  his  former  energy. 
But  it  subsided  before  her  calm,  surprised  gaze.  He 
stared  stupidly  at  her  feet,  extended  and  crossed.  "  Is 
it  settled?"  he  muttered.  "Is  it?"  And  then  he 
straightened  himself — a  kind  of  rearing,  insurgent 
gesture — the  gesture  of  the  last  fierce  stand  in  the  last 
ditch. 

"  Yes,    Chang,    it's    settled,"   said   she    soothingly. 
4  You  are   such  a  big,  foolish  dear !      But — as  I  was 
about  to  say — "     She  hesitated. 

"  Go  on,"  he  urged,  with  a  large,  ironic  gesture 
matching  the  boisterous  irony  of  his  tone.  "  Say  any 
thing  you  like.  Only,  don't  keep  me  in  suspense." 

"Have  you  had  your  breakfast?"  she  asked  so 
licitously. 

10  137 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I  take  only  coffee.     I  had  it." 

"  But  that's  not  enough  for  such  a  long  morning 
as  you  have,"  protested  she. 

"  Isn't  it  ?  All  right.  I'll  eat  whatever  you  say — 
eat  till  you  tell  me  to  stop." 

"  It  really  isn't  enough,"  said  she,  refusing  to  relax 
her  seriousness.  "  But,  to  go  on — now  that  it's  set 
tled  that  we  love  each  other — the  question  is:  What 
shall  we  do  about  it?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  nodding  his  head  in  solemn  mock 
ery.  "  That's  it.  What  shall  be  done  about  it?  " 

"  How  queer  your  voice  is,  Chang,"  observed  she, 
with  a  look  of  gentle,  innocent  worriment.  "  What's 
the  matter?" 

"  I  had  only  coffee,"  said  he. 

"  You  mustn't  do  that  again.  .  .  .  Have  you  any 
suggestion  to  make  ?  " 

"  None.     Have  you?  " 

"  Chang !  "  she  said  reproachfully.  "  You  have  a 
suggestion." 

"Have  I?     What  is  it?" 

"  The  only  possible  suggestion.  You  know  very 
well  that  the  only  sensible  thing  to  do  is  to  get  mar 
ried." 

"  I'm  dreaming,"  jeered  he.     "  Yes,  I'm  dreaming." 

"  You're  laughing  at  me,  Chang !  " 
138 


THE    GUILE    OF   INXOCENCE 

"Am  I?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care.  I'm  so  happy !  The  only  thing 
that  stands  in  the  way  is  father." 

"Oh,  father!  Yes;  there  is  father!"  And  he 
nodded  ironically,  repeating :  "  Father  —  there's 
father." 

"  But  I'll  soon  bring  him  round,"  cried  she.  "  His 
will's  very  strong,  but  mine's  much  stronger." 

"  I  believe  that !  "  said  he  with  energy.  "  You've 
got  the  strongest  will  we've  had  since  Joshua  ordered 
the  sun  to  stand  still  and  the  sun  did  it." 

"  You're  laughing  at  me  again !  "  reproached  she 
with  an  injured  air. 

"No,  no!  How  could  I?"  protested  he.  "But 
suppose  father  refuses  his  consent.  What  then?" 

"  But  he  won't,"  she  said  with  an  emphatic  little 
nod. 

"  But  he  might.  He  doesn't  know  me  as  well  and 
love  me  as  dearly  as  his  daughter  does." 

"  Chang,  I  feel  as  if  you  were  laughing  at  me !  " 

"  How  can  you !  "  said  he.  "  But  let's  go  back  to 
father  and  stick  to  him.  Suppose  he  refuses — abso 
lutely  refuses  !  What  then?  " 

"  I  hadn't  thought.     It's  so  unlikely." 

"  Well — think  now.  You'd  give  up  your  romantic 
dream,  wouldn't  you?  " 

139 


WHITE   MAGIC 


She  beamed,  happy,  confident.  "  Oh,  that  won't 
happen.  He's  sure  to  consent." 

"  He's  sure  not  to  consent,"  said  Roger,  dropping 
his  irony.  "What  then?" 

She  was  silent.  Her  face  slowly  paled.  A  drawn 
look  came  round  her  eyes  and  mouth.  He  laughed — 
a  sarcastic  laugh — a  sincere  sound  that  indicated  to 
her  acute  ears  an  end  of  the  irony  she  had  been  pre 
tending  not  to  suspect.  She  glanced  up  quickly.  Her 
eyes  fell  before  his. 

"  You  see,"  said  he,  a  little  disdain  in  his  jocose 
mockery,  "  I've  shown  you  your  own  true  self.  Now, 
you  will  be  sensible.  Go  back  to  your  Peter  and  let 
the  poor  artist  alone."  He  rose,  came  to  her,  held 
out  his  hand.  "  Good-by,  Rix.  I  must  catch  my 
train." 

She  did  not  take  his  hand. 

"  Surely  you'll  shake  hands,"  said  he  gently, 
friendlily.  "  I  understand.  I  like  you  for  what  you 
are,  not  for  what  you  ought  to  be.  Come,  give  me 
your  hand,  my  friend." 

She  sighed,  gazed  up  at  him.  "  Suppose  I  said 
I'd  give  up  everything  for  you.  What  then  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Why,  you'd  be  saying  what  isn't  true." 

"  Chang,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  I  think  I'd  give  up 
140 


THE   GUILE   OF  INNOCENCE 

everything  for  }Tou.  But  since  it  is  you  who  ask  me — 
you  to  whom  I  feel  I  must  tell  the  exact  truth — I  had 
to  be  honest.  And  the  honest  truth  is  I  don't  know. 
And  any  girl,  in  the  same  circumstances,  would  say 
precisely  the  same  tiling — if  she  weren't  lying — or  just 
romancing." 

"  You  are  a  trump,  Rix ! "  he  exclaimed.  There 
was  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  would  have  thrilled  her,  had 
she  seen  it.  But  before  she  turned  her  gaze  upon  him 
again,  he  had  controlled  his  impulsive  self-revelation. 
In  his  usual  manner  he  went  on :  "  I'm  proud  of  your 
friendship.  It's  always  good  to  be  reminded  that  there 
are  people  of  the  right  sort  on  earth.  But  you  see 
yourself  now  that  I  was  right  from  the  beginning.  We 
don't  belong  in  the  same  class.  We  couldn't  com 
fortably  travel  the  same  road.  We 

"  Would  you  marry  me  if  I  gave  up  everything 
for  you?  "  she  interrupted. 

"  No,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "  Any  man  who  did 
that  to  your  sort  of  girl  would  be  a  fool — and  worse. 
But  don't  forget  another  fact,  my  dear.  I  wouldn't 
marry  you  in  any  circumstances.  I'm  not  marrying. 
I'm  married  already,  as  I  told  you  before.  I  don't  be 
lieve  in  any  other  kind  of  marriage — for  my  kind  of 
man.  I  love  my  freedom.  And  I  shall  keep  it." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  ring  of  those  decisive 


WHITE   MAGIC 


words.  The  girl  shrank  a  little.  She  began  in  a 
choked,  uncertain  voice :  "  But  you  said — 

"  Rix,  my  dear  friend,  I  said  nothing  that  contra 
dicted  what  I've  always  told  you — what  I  believe  in  as  I 
believe  in  my  work.  You  knew  perfectly  well  that  I  was 
merely  ironic  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  didn't  want  to  part 
from  you  with  you  imagining  you  were  broken-hearted. 
That's  why  I  let  you  run  on  and  on — until  you  came 
that  fearful  cropper.  Oh,  what  a  cropper  for  romantic 
Rix!" 

She  laughed  with  a  partial  return  of  her  old  gay- 
ety.  "  I  do  feel  cheap,"  said  she — "  dirt  cheap." 

"  Not  at  all.  Just  human.  But — really  I  must 
be  going,"  said  he  briskly. 

"  When  shall  I  see  you  again  ?  "  And  she  tried  to 
speak  steadily,  with  smiling  eyes. 

"  Let  me  see.  I'll  be  back  in  two  or  three  days. 
In  a  week  or  ten  days  I'll  have  that  picture  about  done. 
I  suppose  you'd  like  to  see  it.  I'll  send  your  mother 
a  note,  asking  her  to  bring  you.  Well — good-by, 
Rix." 

He  took  her  hand,  released  it.  She  stood,  paling 
and  flushing  and  trembling.  "  Is  that — all? "  she 
murmured.  "  Won't  you — "  Voice  failed  her. 

He  bent  and  kissed  her  hair  at  her  temple.  Sud 
denly  she  flung  her  arms  round  his  neck,  kissed  him 


THE   GUILE   OF  INNOCENCE 

passionately,  her  embrace  tight;  and  a  shower  of  tears 
rained  upon  his  cheek.  With  a  hysterical  cry  more 
like  joy  than  like  grief,  yet  like  neither,  she  flung  her 
self  free,  sprang  into  the  canoe  and  pushed  off.  And 
she  went  her  way  and  he  his  without  either  looking 
back« 


VII 

MR.    RICHMOND    CALLS 

ROGER  was  working  in  the  studio,  with  doors  and 
windows  wide.  It  was  fiercely  hot.  He  had  reduced  his 
costume  to  outing  shirt  and  old  flannel  trousers — the 
kind  they  make  in  the  Latin  Quarter — baggy  at  the 
hips,  tapering  to  a  close  fit  at  the  ankles  and  hanging 
with  a  careless,  comfortable,  yet  not  ungraceful  loose 
ness.  He  was  working  at  the  picture.  He  had  not  de 
cided  on  a  name  for  it.  Should  he  call  it  April? — or 
Dawn?— or  The  Water  Witch?  Or  should  he  give  it  its 
proper  name — Rix?  That  title  would  mean  nothing  to 
anyone  save  himself.  But  to  him  the  picture  meant 
nothing  else.  True,  there  was  landscape  in  it ;  the  play 
of  early  morning  light  on  foliage,  on  leaping  water,  on 
placid  water  made  it  the  best  landscape  he  had  ever  done 
— incomparably  the  best.  The  canoe,  too,  was  a  marvel 
in  its  way.  But  the  girl — there  was  the  picture!  He 
made  another  infinitesimal  change — it  would  have  been 
impossible  to  count  the  number  of  those  changes  he  had 
made.  Then  he  stood  off  at  a  little  distance  to  look 
again. 


ME.   RICHMOND   CALLS 

"  Is  it  in  the  canvas — or  is  it  in  my  mind?  "  said  he 
aloud. 

He  could  not  tell.  He  rather  feared  he  was  largely 
imagining  the  wonders  he  thought  he  saw  in  that  pic 
tured  face  and  form. 

"  It  may  be  rotten,  and  I  a  fool  hypnotized  by  her 
and  by  my  own  vanity,  for  all  I  know.  But — what  do 
I  care?  I  am  getting  the  pleasure." 

Pleasure?  Never  before  had  he  taken  such  deep, 
utter  joy  in  his  work.  Not  merely  joy  in  the  doing — 
that  was  his  invariable  experience — but  joy  in  the  com 
pleted  work.  Never  before  had  he  brought  anything  so 
near  to  the  finish  without  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction, 
sense  of  failure,  of  having  just  missed  his  aim.  He 
viewed  the  picture  from  a  dozen  points.  And  each  time 
he  beheld  in  it  something  new,  something  yet  more 
wonderful. 

"  I'm  damned  if  it's  there !  It  simply  can't  be.  Not 
the  greatest  genius  who  ever  lived  could  produce  what 
I  imagine  I  see." 

He  took  a  dozen  new  positions,  standing  long  at 
each  view  point.  But  the  illusion — it  must  be  illusion  ! — 
refused  to  vanish.  The  work — the  figure  part  of  it — 
persisted  in  appealing  to  him  as  a  product  of  tran 
scendent  genius. 

"  That  business  didn't  stop  a  minute  too  soon — not 
145 


WHITE   MAGIC 


a  minute !  For  it's  evident  I  was  on  the  verge  of  falling 
in  love." 

"On  the  verge?"  .  .  .  What  was  the  meaning  of 
the  illusion  of  a  picture  greater  than  ever  artist  made? 
.  .  .  On  the  verge? 

"  Why,  hang  it  all,  I've  done  nothing  but  think 
about  her  since  we  kissed.  I'm  bewitched!  I'm  in 
love!" 

The  kiss  was  a  week  old  now — ought  to  have  lost  its 
power  long  ago;  for  there  is  power  in  a  kiss  from  a 
pretty  woman,  even  though  a  man  does  not  love  her. 
But  this  kiss  had  an  extraordinary,  an  unprecedented 
quality.  Other  kisses — in  days  gone  by — had  given 
their  little  sensation  and  had  straightway  drifted  into 
the  crowd  of  impressions  about  the  woman  or  about  the 
general  joyousness  of  life  when  the  senses  are  normal 
and  responsive.  But  this  kiss — it  had  individuality,  a 
body  and  soul  of  its  own,  a  Jack's  bean-stalk  kind  of  vi 
tality.  It  was  more  vigorous  day  by  day.  He  could 
feel  it  much  more  potently  to-day  than  on  the  day  it 
was  given.  Really,  it  did  not  make  a  very  powerful 
impression  then.  He  had  experienced  much  better 
kisses.  He  had  felt  awkward — a  little  ridiculous — 
rather  uneasy  and  anxious  to  escape.  Now 

"  Not  a  minute  too  soon — not  a  minute !  As  it  is, 
I'm  going  to  have  the  devil's  own  time  forgetting  her." 

146 


ME.   RICHMOND    CALLS 

What  had  become  of  all  his  projects  for  a  career, 
for  rapid  striding  into  fame?  Gone — quite  gone.  He 
simply  wanted  to  stay  at  the  studio  and  work  on  and  on 
and  yet  on  at  the  one  picture — at  the  one  figure  in  that 
picture.  He  had  vaguely  decided  on  a  scheme  for  an 
other  picture  when  this  should  be  done.  What  was  it? 
Why,  a  picture  of  a  woman  sitting  under  a  tree,  her 
hands  listless,  her  whole  body  relaxed  and  inert — except 
her  eyes.  Her  eyes  were  to  be  winging  into  the  depths 
of  the  infinite.  He  had  planned  out  the  contrast  be 
tween  the  eyes,  so  intensely,  so  swiftly  alive,  and  the 
passive  rest  of  her.  And  who  was  this  woman?  Rix! 
He  had  still  more  vaguely  planned  a  third  picture.  Of 
what?  Rix  again. 

"  Not  a  minute  too  soon?  By  Heaven,  a  minute  too 
late!" 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  demanded  he  gloomily  of  his 
gloomy  self.  Why,  pay  the  bill.  Pay  like  a  man.  "  I 
couldn't  marry  her  if  I  would.  I  wouldn't  marry  her  if 
I  could.  But  I  can  pay  the  bill  for  making  a  fool  of 
myself."  He  glowered  savagely  around.  "  The  next 
time  a  good-looking  woman  comes  here,"  he  muttered, 
"  I'll  take  to  my  heels  and  hide  in  the  woods  till  she's 
gone.  I  see  I'm  no  longer  to  be  trusted  in  female  soci 
ety.  At  my  age — with  my  plans — after  all  I've  been 
through — to  make  such  an  easy  ass  of  myself ! "  He 

147 


WHITE   MAGIC 


sat  down  despondently  on  the  bench — sprang  up — for 
was  it  not  there — lying  there — just  where  he  had  seated 
himself — that  he  had  first  seen  her  ?  He  glanced  round 
the  studio.  He  groaned.  Everything  in  it  reminded  him 
of  her;  and  there,  in  the  center,  in  the  most  favorable 
light,  on  the  easel — was  she  herself ! 

He  rushed  outdoors.  Sunshine  shimmering  and 
sparkling  on  the  foliage — he  could  see  her,  the  yellow 
hair  aflame  with  sunbeams,  flitting  gracefully  through 
the  aisles  of  the  forest !  A  heavy  bill  it  was  to  be !  But 
he  set  his  teeth.  "  She  is  not  for  me,  nor  I  for  her.  If 
she  were  here  now  I'd  talk  to  her  just  as  I  did.  But, 
thank  God,  I  didn't  realize  until  I  had  done  the  only 
thing  that's  sane  and  honorable.  I  wonder  how  long  it 
will  be  before  I  can  begin  to  forget?  " 

Every  morning  he  awoke  vowing  he  would  not  touch 
or  look  at  her  picture  that  day.  Every  morning  he  cut 
short  his  walk  that  he  might  get  to  the  studio  earlier 
and  busy  himself  at  the  picture.  He  partially  consoled 
himself  with  the  reflection  that  at  least  he  was  improv 
ing  it,  was  not  altogether  wasting  his  time.  And  he 
found  evidence  of  real  strength  of  purpose  in  the  fact 
that  he  kept  away  from  the  waterfall.  For  two  weeks 
he  daily  feared — or  hoped — whether  fear  or  hope  or 
both  he  was  not  sure — that  she  would  come  to  the 
studio.  As  the  days  passed  and  she  did  not  appear  he 

148 


MR.    RICHMOND    CALLS 

felt  that  she  was  getting  over  her  infatuation ;  to  stay 
away  thus  long  unless  her  enthusiasm  had  cooled  was 
wholly  unlike  her  impetuous  and  brave  nature.  This 
thought  did  not  make  him  happier  exactly,  but  athwart 
its  gloom  shot  one  sincerely  generous  gleam :  "  Anyhow, 
I'm  paying  alone,"  said  he  to  himself.  "  And  that's  as 
it  should  be.  It  was  altogether  my  fault.  I  am  older, 
more  experienced.  I  ought  to  have  seen  that  the 
strangeness  and  novelty  of  our  meetings  were  appealing 
to  her  young  imagination — and  I  ought  to  have  broken 
off  at  the  very  outset.  If  she  had  been  a  poor  girl  lead 
ing  a  quiet,  dull  life  the  consequences  might  have  been 
serious.  Yes,  and  I  might  have  been  weak  enough  to 
marry  her  out  of  regret — and  that  would  have  been 
misery  for  us  both." 

He  tried  fighting  against  the  desire  to  spend  his 
days  with  that  picture.  He  tried  yielding  to  the  desire. 
But  neither  abstinence  nor  excess  availed.  He  tried 
savage,  sneering  criticism — found  that  he  loved  her  for 
her  defects  and  her  weaknesses.  He  tried  absurd  ex 
travagance  of  romancing — found  that  he  had  quite  lost 
his  sense  of  humor  where  adulation  of  her  was  concerned. 
The  kiss  flamed  on.  He  decided  to  leave — to  fly.  But 
he  discovered  that  if  he  went  he  would  surely  take  the 
picture ;  and  of  what  use  to  go,  if  he  lugged  his  curse 
along  with  him? 

149 


WHITE   MAGIC 


One  afternoon  late  he  went  to  the  door  to  get  the 
full  benefit  of  a  cool  breeze  that  had  sprung  up.  He 
saw,  a  few  hundred  yards  away,  Rix  and  a  man  climb 
ing  up  through  the  dense  woods  toward  his  workshop. 
He  wheeled  round,  rushed  in  and  put  the  picture  away 
— far  back  in  the  depths  of  the  closet,  behind  a  lot  of 
other  pictures.  In  its  place  on  the  easel  he  set  a  barely 
begun  sketch — one  of  his  attempts  to  distract  his  mind. 
Then,  with  no  alteration  in  his  appearance — his  hair 
was  mussed  this  way  and  that,  and  his  negligee  shirt 
was  open  at  the  neck  and  rolled  up  to  the  elbows — he  lit 
a  cigarette  and  sauntered  to  the  door  again.  His  not 
making  any  effort  to  improve  upon  his  appearance  was 
characteristic  and  significant;  rarely  indeed  has  there 
been  a  human  being  habitually  less  self-conscious  than 
he.  It  would  take  a  very  vain  person  to  continue  to 
think  of  himself  or  herself  on  becoming  suddenly  a  spec 
tator  at  some  scene  of  tremendous  interest.  Roger  was 
in  that  state  of  mind  all  the  time.  His  senses  were  so 
eager,  his  mind  so  inquisitive,  his  powers  of  observation 
so  acute  that  his  thoughts  were  like  bees  on  a  bright, 
summer  day — always  roving,  and  returning  home  only 
to  unload  what  had  been  gathered  and  quickly  depart 
again  in  quest  of  more  from  the  outside. 

As  the  ascent  was  steep  he  had  ample  time  to  com 
pose  his  thoughts  and  his  expression.  She  must  not  see 

150 


MR.   RICHMOND   CALLS 

or  feel  anything  that  would  make  it,  however  little, 
harder  to  pursue  the  road  Fate  had  marked  out  for  her. 
The  man  beside  her  was  obviously  her  father — obvi 
ously,  though  there  was  no  similarity  of  face  or  man 
ner  or  figure.  The  relationship  was  revealed  in  that 
evasive  similarity  called  family  favor — a  similarity 
which  startlingly  asserts  itself  even  in  dissimilarities,  as 
if  the  soul  and  the  body  had  a  faint  aureole  which  ap 
peared  only  at  certain  angles  and  in  certain  lights.  He 
was  a  little,  thin  man — dry  and  dyspeptic — with  one  of 
those  deceptive  retreating  chins  of  insignificant  size 
that  indicate  cunning  instead  of  weakness.  He  had  a 
big,  sharp  nose,  a  rough  skin  and  scraggly  mustache, 
with  restless,  gray-green  eyes.  He  was  very  slouchily 
dressed  in  dusty  gray.  When  he  took  off  his  straw  hat 
to  wipe  his  brow  Roger  was  astonished  by  the  sudden 
view  of  a  really  superb  upper  head  which  transformed 
his  aspect  from  merely  sly  to  dangerously  crafty — the 
man  with  the  nature  of  a  fox  and  the  intelligence  to 
make  that  nature  not  simply  a  local  nuisance  but  a  gen 
eral  scourge.  "  I'd  like  to  paint  him,"  thought  Roger 
— and  compliment  could  no  further  go  in  an  artist  who 
detested  portrait  work. 

As  the  two  drew  near  Rix  waved  her  sunshade  at 
him  and  nodded.  He  advanced,  holding  to  his  cig 
arette.  When  she  extended  her  hand — a  gloved  hand,  for 

151 


WHITE   MAGIC 


she  was  in  a  fashionable,  white,  walking  costume — her 
eyes  did  not  lift  and  her  color  wavered  and  her  short, 
sensitive,  upper  lip  trembled  slightly.  "  Mr.  Wade,  I 
want  you  and  father  to  know  each  other,"  said  she.  As 
her  voice  came  the  thrill  that  shot  through  him  dropped 
his  cigarette  from  between  the  fingers  of  his  left  hand. 
He  and  Richmond  gave  each  other  a  penetrating, 
seeing  glance,  followed  by  a  smile  of  immediate  appre 
ciation. 

Richmond  gave  and  took  back  his  hand  quickly— 
the  hand  shake  of  the  man  who  is  impatient  of  meaning 
less  formalities.  "  I've  come  to  look  at  the  picture," 
said  he,  in  his  voice  the  note  of  one  who  neither  wastes 
his  own  time  nor  suffers  others  to  waste  it. 

Roger  froze  instantly.  "  I'm  sorry  you've  had  your 
journey  for  nothing/'  said  he. 

Richmond  looked  at  him  aggressively.  Roger's  tone 
of  the  large,  free  spirit  that  does  as  it  wills  was  to  Rich 
mond,  the  autocrat,  like  a  challenging  trumpet.  "  It's 
here — isn't  it?  "  said  he. 

"  But  it's  not  finished,"  replied  the  big  artist,  gen 
tle  as  the  voice  of  a  great  river  flowing  inevitably  on  its 
way. 

"  No  matter,"  said  Richmond  graciously.  "  We'll 
take  a  look  at  it,  anyhow." 

"  Oh,  no,  we  shan't,"  said  Beatrice,  laughing.     "  He 


MR.    RICHMOND    CALLS 

has  a  rule  against  it,  father.  And  he's  like  iron  where 
his  rules  are  concerned.  But  you'll  give  us  some  choco 
late,  won't  you,  Mr.  Wade?" 

"  Delighted,"  said  Roger,  with  a  gesture  inviting 
them  to  precede  him  into  the  studio. 

Richmond  looked  round  him  scrutinizingly.  "  Noth 
ing  to  distract  your  mind  from  your  work,  I  see. 
That's  the  way  my  office  is  fitted  up.  I'm  always  suspi 
cious  of  chaps  surrounded  by  elegant  fittings."  And  he 
gave  Roger  an  approving  look  that  was  flattering,  if  a 
trifle  suggestive  of  superiority. 

"  It's  not  wise  to  judge  a  man  by  any  exteriors," 
said  Roger.  "  What  he  does — that  is  the  only  safe 
standard." 

Richmond  reflected,  nodded.  "  Yes,"  said  he.  "  Yes. 
Is  that  the  picture?  "  He  pointed  one  brown,  bony 
hand  at  the  sketch  on  the  easel. 

"  No,"  said  Roger  curtly,  and  he  flung  a  drape  over 
the  sketch.  Turning  to  Beatrice  with  rather  formal 
friendliness,  he  inquired,  "  How  is  your  mother?  " 

"  Well— always  well,"  said  Beatrice.  "  She  sent 
you  her  best.  But  she's  cross  with  you  for  not  coming 
to  call." 

Richmond  grinned  sardonically.     "  From  what  I've 
heard  of  Wade,"  said  he,  "  he's  not  the  kind  you  find 
nestled  among  the  petticoats   with  a  little  cup  in  his 
11  153 


WHITE   MAGIC 


hand."  He  smiled  upon  Roger.  "  In  America,  at  least, 
you  never  see  men  who  amount  to  anything  at  these 
social  goings-on.  In  five  years  I've  been  to  only  one 
party  in  my  own  house,  and  to  none  in  anybody  else's 
house." 

"May  I  help  with  the  chocolate — Mr.  Wade?" 
asked  Beatrice. 

"  No.  You  two  will  sit  quietly.  I  don't  mind  being 
watched." 

While  he  made  the  closet  give  up  the  necessary  uten 
sils  and  concocted  the  chocolate  with  the  aid  of  spirit- 
lamp  stove  the  three  talked  in  rambling  fashion.  Sev 
eral  times  Richmond  brought  up  the  subject  of  the 
picture;  every  time  Roger  abruptly  led  away  from  it, 
Beatrice  with  increasing  nervousness  helping  him.  But 
Richmond  was  not  discouraged.  It  became  evident  that 
he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  see  that  picture  and  was 
only  the  more  resolved  because  the  artist  had  his  will 
set  against  it.  Finally  he  said: 

"  It's  really  necessary,  Mr.  Wade,  that  I  see  the  pic 
ture.  Your  friend,  Count  d'Artois,  speaks  highly  of 
your  work.  But  I  always  judge  everything  for  myself. 
And  I  must  see  before  I  decide  about  giving  you  a  com 
mission — a  dozen  panels  for  an  outing-club  house  I  and 
some  of  my  friends  are  going  to  put  something  like  half 
a  million  into." 


MR.    RICHMOND    CALLS 

"  Why,  father,  you  didn't  tell  me  anything  about 
it !  "  exclaimed  Beatrice,  flushed  and  agitated.  And 
Roger  understood  that  she,  nervous  about  his  sensibili 
ties,  was  letting  him  know  that  she  had  not  arranged 
this. 

Her  father's  amused  laugh  confirmed  Roger's  im 
pression  that  Beatrice  was  telling  the  truth.  "  No,  my 
dear,  I  did  forget  to  ask  your  permission,"  said  Rich 
mond  ironically.  "  I  apologize.  Now,  Wade,  you  see 
I'm  not  asking  out  of  idle  curiosity  or  merely  because 
I'm  anxious  to  see  what  you've  made  of  this  girl  of 
mine.  So,  don't  bother  with  bashfulness.  Trot  out  the 
picture." 

But  Roger  smilingly  shook  his  head.  "  I  couldn't 
undertake  any  work  at  present." 

"  Honestly,  Chang,  I  didn't  know  a  thing  about 
this,"  cried  the  girl.  Then,  to  her  father:  "He's  so 
peculiar  that  he  wouldn't " 

"  Oh,  no,  I'm  not  such  an  ass  as  that,"  interrupted 
Roger  good-naturedly.  "  Sugar  in  your  chocolate,  Mr. 
Richmond?  No?  When  are  you  sailing,  Miss  Rich 
mond?" 

Beatrice  understood — abandoned  the  sub j  ect.  "  Per 
haps  we  shan't  go,"  she  replied. 

And  she  went  on  to  detail  at  length  and  with  much 
vivacity  the  merits  and  demerits  of  several  plans  for  the 

155 


WHITE   MAGIC 


summer  she  and  her  mother  were  considering.  Rich 
mond's  frown  deepened.  After  five  minutes  he  set  down 
his  empty  cup  and  cut  squarely  across  her  stream  of 
lively  talk. 

"  The  panels  will  be  a  good  thing — from  the  finan 
cial  standpoint,"  said  he,  a  note  in  his  voice  like  a  rap 
for  undivided  attention. 

Beatrice  glanced  anxiously  at  Roger,  said  to  her 
father :  "  Oh,  papa,  don't  let's  talk  business.  This  is  a 
party." 

"  7  came  on  business,"  retorted  Richmond.  "  And  I 
know  Wade  wouldn't  thank  us  for  coming  if  we  were 
here  just  to  fool  away  his  time." 

"  I  usually  knock  off  for  chocolate  at  this  hour," 
said  Roger.  "  About  the  panels — thank  you  very  much, 
but  I  can't  do  them." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  inquired  Richmond,  so  much  irrita 
tion  in  his  tone  that  it  was  scarcely  polite. 

Roger  looked  amused.  "  I  haven't  thought  of  the 
reason  yet,"  said  he  courteously.  "  If  I  change  my 
mind  later  I'll  let  you  know." 

Richmond  did  not  conceal  his  disgust  with  what 
seemed  to  him  an  exhibition  of  youthful  egotism  border 
ing  on  impertinence.  Beatrice,  eager  for  her  father  to 
get  a  favorable  impression,  looked  woefully  depressed. 
"  You  misunderstood  me,  Mr.  Wade,"  said  he,  resum- 

156 


MR.    RICHMOND    CALLS 

ing  the  Mr.  to  indicate  his  disapproval.  "  I  did  not 
offer  you  the  commission." 

"  And  I  didn't  accept  it,"  said  Roger,  laughing. 
"  So,  there's  no  harm  done.  Let  me  give  you  some 
chocolate." 

"  Thanks — no.  We  are  going."  And  the  financier 
rose.  "  Come  along,  Beatrice." 

The  girl,  pale  and  crestfallen,  half  rose,  reseated 
herself,  looked  appealingly  at  Roger,  who  seemed  not 
to  see,  then  stood.  "When  can  we  see  the  picture?" 
she  asked,  casting  desperately  about  for  an  excuse  for 
lingering. 

"  We  don't  want  to  see  it  at  all,"  her  father  put  in, 
with  a  jovial,  sardonic  laugh  that  revealed  unpleasantly 
his  strong,  sallow,  crowded  teeth.  "  Mr.  Wade  needn't 
bother  to  complete  it.  I'll  send  him  a  check  for  what 
ever  you  settled  as  the  price — 

"  Father  !  "  gasped  Beatrice  despairingly.  Then, 
to  Roger,  with  a  nervous  attempt  at  a  lively  smile :  "  He 
doesn't  mean  it.  He's  simply  joking." 

"  Your  father  and  I  understand  each  other,"  said 
Roger  tranquilly.  "  The  picture'll  be  done  in  a  few 
days.  I'll  send  it  to  Red  Hill  immediately.  I  always 
like  to  get  a  finished  job  out  of  the  place.  I've  got  a 
terrible  habit  of  tinkering  as  long  as  a  thing's  within 
reach.  As  for  the  check" — he  smiled  pleasantly  at 

157 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Richmond,  who  looked — and  felt — small  and  shriveled 
before  the  large  candor  of  the  artist's  expression — 
"  your  daughter  is  a  poor  business  woman.  She  forgot 
to  make  a  bargain.  So  it  lies  between  your  generosity 
and  mine."  Roger  made  a  courtly  bow,  with  enough 
mockery  in  it  to  take  away  affectation.  "  I'm  sure  mine 
will  come  nearer  the  value  of  the  picture.  I'll  make  you 
a  present  of  it — with  my  compliments." 

"  Can't  permit  it !  "  said  Richmond  angrily. 

But  Roger  remained  suave.  "  I  don't  see  how 
you're  going  to  help  yourself,"  said  he.  "  I  can  send  it 
back  to  you  as  often  as  you  return  it  to  me,  and  if  you 
can  refuse  to  take  it  in,  why,  so  can  I.  You  can't  make 
me  ridiculous  without  my  making  you  ridiculous  also. 
You  see,  you're  in  my  power,  Mr.  Richmond."  All  this 
with  the  utmost  good  humor  and  friendliness. 

Richmond  could  think  of  nothing  to  say  but  a  repe 
tition  of  his  curt  "  Can't  permit  it ! "  He  glanced  in 
the  direction  of  his  daughter,  jerked  his  head  toward 
the  door.  "  Come  along,  child.  Good  day,  sir."  Rog 
er's  expression,  from  the  height  of  his  tall  figure,  was 
so  compelling  that  he  put  out  his  hand,  which  Roger 
took  and  shook  with  the  cordiality  of  a  host  to  whom 
any  guest  is  inviolable. 

Beatrice  and  Roger  shook  hands — that  is,  Beatrice 
let  her  hand  rest  lifelessly  in  Roger's  until  he  dropped 

158 


MR.   RICHMOND   CALLS 

it.  He  bowed  them  out  into  the  sunshine  and  stood  in 
the  doorway,  watching  them.  At  the  edge  of  the  forest 
Beatrice  turned  suddenly  and  started  back.  Roger  saw 
her  father  wheel  round — heard  his  sharp  "  Beatrice !  " 
— saw  his  look  of  furious  amazement.  The  girl  came 
almost  running.  Roger  braced  himself,  through  his 
whole  body  a  gripping  sensation  that  might  be  either 
terror  or  delight. 

When  she  stood  before  him,  her  eyes  down,  her 
cheeks  pale,  her  bosom  heaving,  she  said :  "  The  other 
day  you  asked  me  whether  I'd  give  up  everything  for 
you.  I  didn't  know  then.  I  do  know  now." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  I  did  not,"  said  Roger,  calm  and 
cold. 

"  However  it  was,"  she  rushed  on,  "  that  question 
came  up.  And  I  didn't  know  then  whether  I  would  or 
would  not.  Well — I  know  now." 

"  Your  father  is  impatient." 

"  I'm  sure  I  would,"  she  said,  a  fascinating  haughty 
humility  in  her  face,  in  her  voice.  And  she  looked  so 
brilliantly  young  and  ardent. 

Roger's  glance  fled  before  hers.  A  brief  electric  si 
lence,  then  he  laughed  pleasantly.  "  And  I'm  sure  you 
wouldn't.  And  it  doesn't  matter  whether  you  would  or 
wouldn't.  Good-by,  Rix.  Your  father's  look  is  aimed 
to  kill." 

159 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  How  cruel  you  are — and  how  blind !  "  she  cried, 
eyes  and  cheeks  aflame.  And  as  quickly  as  she  had  come 
she  sped  away  to  rejoin  her  father. 

Roger  heaved  a  great  sigh.  "  Now,"  said  he  aloud, 
"  I've  seen  the  last  of  her.  I  can  resume." 


VIII 

AN    INFURIATE    FATHER 


"  I  SUPPOSE  you  went  back  to  apologize  for  me," 
said  her  father  as  they  started  on  together. 

"  You  don't  understand  him,"  replied  she  miserably. 
"  Artists — great  artists — are  different." 

"  He  is  a  good  deal  of  a  man.  D'Artois  was  right. 
I'll  see  that  he  does  those  panels."  And  Richmond  gave 
the  nod  of  a  man  who  has  money  and  knows  that  money 
is  all-powerful. 

Beatrice  stopped  short;  her  eyes  opened  wide. 
"  Why,"  exclaimed  she,  "  I  thought  you  disliked  him ! " 

"  Not  at  all— not  at  all,"  replied  her  father.  "  He's 
a  disagreeable  chap.  But  all  men  who  amount  to  any 
thing  are.  A  man  who's  thoroughly  agreeable  is  in 
variably  weak.  An  agreeable  man's  rarely  worth  more 
than  twelve  or  fifteen  a  week.  What  this  world  needs  is 
more  people  like  this  friend  of  yours.  I  saw  that  he  had 
built  himself  up  solidly  from  the  ground.  I  wish  I  had 
a  son  like  that!  Your  brothers  are  pretty  poor  ex 
cuses,  thanks  to  the  vicious  training  your  mother  has 
given  them.  '  Be  a  gentleman — make  everybody  com- 

161 


WHITE   MAGIC 


fortable — don't  do  anything  to  hurt  anybody's  feelings 
or  to  make  yourself  conspicuous.'  That  is,  be  a 
cipher."  Richmond  snorted.  "  A  gentleman  is  a  cipher 
— and  ciphers  count  for  nothing  unless  they're  annexed 
after  a  figure  that  stands  for  something.  But  I  sup 
pose  a  successful  man  can't  expect  to  have  strong  sons. 
He  has  to  be  thankful  if  they're  not  imbecile  or  dis 
sipated." 

Beatrice  had  been  caught  up  and  whirled  all  in  a 
twinkling  from  depth  to  height.  The  way  down 
through  the  woods  was  rough  and  toilsome.  She  flitted 
along  as  if  it  were  smooth  as  a  French  highroad.  She 
beamed  upon  her  father.  "  What  a  difference  between 
the  ordinary  young  man — the  sort  we  meet — and  a  man 
like  Roger  Wade !  "  cried  she. 

"  Those  tailor's  dummies  1 "  said  Richmond  contemp 
tuously.  "  You  can't  compare  a  man  with  them." 

He  was  on  his  favorite  topic  for  private  and  public 
addresses — the  topic  that  enabled  him  to  express  the 
views  which  had  won  for  him  the  name  of  being  the  most 
democratic  of  the  big  financiers.  Like  all  men  of 
abounding  mentality  he  was  a  huge  talker;  get  him 
started  and  the  only  thing  to  do,  whether  one  wished  or 
no,  was  to  listen.  Usually,  Beatrice,  who  was  not  fond 
of  silence  and  soon  reached  the  limit  of  her  capacity  for 
listening,  would  imperiously  interrupt  these  monologues 

162 


AN   INFURIATE   FATHER 

— and  both  would  enjoy  the  tussle  between  their  wills 
as  each  tried  to  compel  the  other  to  listen.  But  this 
discourse — composed  though  it  was  of  commonplaces  he 
had  repeated  and  she  had  heard  scores  of  times — she 
drank  in  as  if  it  had  been  the  brand-new  thing  her  soul 
had  long  thirsted  to  hear.  Like  all  fluent  talkers  Rich 
mond  often  fell  victim — in  conversation,  never  in  action 
— to  the  intoxication  of  bubbling  ideas  and  phrases. 
Before  they  reached  the  place  where  they  had  left  the 
T  cart  to  await  their  return^  Richmond  had  not  merely 
committed  himself  finally  and  completely  to  the  gospel 
of  the  aristocracy  of  achievement,  he  had  hailed  that 
aristocracy  as  the  only  one  worthy  of  consideration, 
had  ridiculed  and  denounced  all  others  as  utterly  con 
temptible. 

Beatrice  took  advantage  of  his  pause  for  getting  the 
horses  under  way.  She  gave  his  arm  a  loving  squeeze. 
"  I'm  so  proud  of  you !  "  she  said  tenderly,  gazing  at 
him  with  sparkling  eyes  and  delicately  flushed  cheeks. 
"  I  knew  you'd  feel  that  way  about  him !  " 

"About  whom?"  said  her  father,  whose  flooding 
sermon  had  borne  him  swiftly  far  from  view,  or  remem 
brance  even,  of  the  text  whence  it  had  sprung. 

"  About  Chang." 

"Chang?     What  Chang?    Who's  Chang?" 

"  Roger  Wade." 

163 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  he  indifferently.  "  He's  a 
case  in  point." 

"  I  knew  you'd  help  me  with  him,"  pursued  the  hap 
py  girl. 

"  Of  course  I  will,"  said  Richmond.  "  Hasn't  he 
been  doing  what  you  wanted  about  the  picture  ?  " 

"  I  want  him"  said  she,  feeling  close  and  sympa 
thetic,  completely  in  touch  with  this  splendid,  broad- 
minded  father  of  hers. 

Richmond  reined  in  the  horses  so  sharply  that  one 
of  them  reared.  It  took  a  minute  or  so  for  them  to  be 
quieted,  with  the  groom  racing  round  from  the  seat  be 
hind  to  steady  their  heads.  When  the  cart  was  moving 
smoothly  on  Richmond  said:  "What  did  you  say  just 
as  that  brown  devil  began  to  act  up  ?  " 

"  I  want  to  marry  Roger  Wade,"  replied  Beatrice, 
too  strongly  under  the  delusion  to  read  plain  signs 
aright.  "  You  see  why.  You've  said  yourself  that  he 
was  one  of  the  realest  men  you  had  seen.  You  can't 
wonder  at  my  caring  for  him.  All  the  others  seem  so — 
so  puny — beside  him.  I'd  be  ashamed  to  show  any  of 
them  as  my  husband.  What  shall  I  do,  father?  How 
can  I  get  him  ?  " 

If  one  finds  oneself  pointing  south  when  he  ought  to 
be  pointing  north  there  are  two  ways  to  act.  One  may 
veer  gently  and  gradually,  hoping  that  the  shift  will 


AN   INFURIATE   FATHER 

pass  unobserved ;  or  one  may  make  the  change  with 
speed  swifter  than  thought  or  sight,  and  may  point 
north  so  stiffly  that  it  will  seem  impossible  that  one  ever 
was  pointing,  or  ever  could  point,  in  any  other  direc 
tion.  When  Richmond  found  it  necessary  to  flop  he  did 
not  sidle — he  flopped.  He  proceeded  to  flop  now — with 
a  jerk  and  a  bang.  "What  are  you  talking  about?  " 
he  said  savagely.  "  You're  going  to  marry  Peter." 

The  instant  prompting  of  instinct  to  Beatrice  was 
that  her  father  would  not  help,  would  not  consent, 
would  not  tolerate.  But  straightway  came  the  memory 
of  his  gallant  democratic  speechifyings  still  echoing  in 
her  ears.  "  You  know  I  couldn't  marry  a  Peter  after  I 
had  seen  Roger,"  she  said  gayly.  "  All  the  time  you 
were  talking — as  we  walked  down  from  his  studio — I 
knew  what  you  really  had  in  mind.  You  were  giving  it 
to  me  for  thinking  of  Peter  when  I  might  have  the  other 
man.  You  thought  I  was  hopelessly  frivolous  and  snob 
bish  like  the  rest  of  the  family.  But  I'm  like  you, 
father.  I  don't  want  to  be  married  to  a  tailor's  dummy. 
I  want  a  man!  "  She  nodded  brightly  at  his  thunder 
ous  face.  "  And  we'll  get  him — you  and  I !  " 

Richmond  did  not  relent,  not  a  whit.  She  had  taken 
him  so  completely  by  surprise,  had  put  him  in  such  an 
absurdly  false  position  that  temper  got  the  better  of 
prudence.  He  did  not  view  the  situation  calmly  and 

165 


WHITE   MAGIC 


proceed  along  lines  of  wisdom — using  common-sense 
argument,  appeal  to  material  instincts  and  that  mighti 
est  of  weapons,  gentle  ridicule.  He  hurled  at  her 
through  his  eyes  the  hot  wrath  of  his  tyrant  will.  "  You 
are  going  to  marry  Peter,  I  tell  you.  I'm  astounded  at 
you.  I'm  disgusted  with  you.  I'd  have  thought  you 
could  see  straight  through  a  cheap,  lazy  fortune 
hunter.  Vanity — always  vanity !  He  makes  a  few  flat 
tering  speeches,  and  you  believe  he  is  in  love  with  you. 
And  you  begin  to  make  a  god  out  of  him.  I'm  glad 
you  spoke  to  me  about  this.  If  the  Vanderkiefs  had 
any  idea  of  it  they'd  drop  you  double-quick." 

Beatrice  knew  her  father — knew  when  he  was  in 
earnest.  Never  before  had  she  seen  or  felt  a  deeper 
earnestness  than  this  of  his  now.  She  sat  dazed,  staring 
at  the  restless  ears  of  the  thoroughbreds  before  her. 

"  No  good  ever  comes  of  marrying  out  of  your  own 
class,"  continued  he.  "  I  thought  you  had  more  pride. 
I  know  you  have.  You  were  joking.  Let's  hear  no 
more  about  it." 

"  He  is  not  a  fortune  hunter,"  said  Beatrice  in  a 
numb  way. 

"  I  tell  you  he  is !  "  cried  Richmond  violently.  "  The 
impudent  hound!  No  wonder  he  tried  to  work  off  that 
picture  of  his  as  a  gift !  "  Richmond  laughed  with  a 
sneer.  "  The  impudent  puppy  !  " 

166 


'AN   INFURIATE   FATHER 

"  He  is  a  great  artist,"  said  Beatrice.  "  D'Artois 
says  so." 

"What  of  that?  What's  an  artist?  What  stand 
ing  has  he  got?  But  don't  talk  about  it.  I'll  not  be 
able  to  contain  myself."  He  faced  her  sharply.  "  Look 
at  me !  " 

The  girl  turned  her  eyes  slowly,  with  her  wounded 
soul's  suffering  revealed  in  them.  But  Richmond  did 
not  see  people  ever;  he  saw  only  his  own  purposes. 
"  How  far  has  this  gone?  " 

She  eyed  him  steadily  long  enough  for  him  to  get 
the  sense  of  an  immovable  obstacle  squarely  across  the 
path  of  his  indomitable  will.  "  It  has  gone  so  far  that 
I'll  not  marry  anyone  else,"  she  said,  neither  hot  nor 
cold.  "  I  couldn't." 

"  Don't  let  me  hear  that  kind  of  talk !  "  shouted 
Richmond,  in  his  rage  forgetting  the  groom.  "  You 
are  going  to  marry  a  man  who  can  make  you  happy — a 
man  in  your  own  station — a  man  who  has  family  and 
standing." 

I         "  But  you  said  Roger  was  of  the  only  true  aris 
tocracy,"  pleaded  Beatrice.     "  You  said ' 

"  And  a  fool  I  was,  to  talk  to  a  silly,  little  idiot  of 
an  ignorant  girl  with  no  experience  of  life,  with  no 
ability  to  understand  what  I  was  talking  about.  I 
wasn't  discussing  a  husband  for  you.  I  wasn't  discuss- 

167 


WHITE   MAGIC 


ing  the  world  as  it  is.  I  wasn't  discussing  people  of 
our  station.  I  wasn't  discussing  fortune-hunting  ar 
tists.  It  shows  how  little  sense  you've  got,  that  you 
could  twist  what  I  said  into  an  appeal  to  you  to  marry 
an  impudent  fortune  hunter !  " 

In  his  fury  at  her  for  being  thus  stupid  he  gave  the 
off  thoroughbred  a  sharp  cut  with  the  whip.  The  horse, 
unused  to  such  loutish  disrespect  to  his  royal  blood, 
leaped  forward,  started  to  run.  For  five  minutes  Rich 
mond  had  to  fix  his  undivided  attention  upon  the  horses ; 
they  gave  him  a  bad  scare  before  consenting  to  submit. 

The  girl,  unconscious  of  what  was  going  on,  sat  in 
the  blinding  storm  of  her  own  unhappiness. 

"  You  and  Peter  are  engaged?  "  was  her  father's  re 
suming  remark. 

"In  a  fashion." 

"  What  does  that  mean?  " 

"  Not  much  of  anything,"  replied  his  daughter 
indifferently. 

Richmond's  strong,  sallow  teeth  looked  as  if  they 
were  crowded  because  they  were  pushing  eagerly  to  the 
fore  in  competition  to  be  first  in  sinking  into  the  prey. 
Said  he :  "  I  want  the  date  of  the  wedding  fixed  at 
once." 

Silence. 

"Did  you  hear?" 

168 


AN   INFURIATE    FATHER 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  don't  you  answer  ?  " 

"  You  didn't  ask  a  question.     You  issued  an  order." 

"  And  you  will  obey  it." 

Silence. 

"Did  you  hear?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I  won't  tolerate  sullenness.  I  am  your  father.  I 
know  life — the  world — what  is  best  for  my  family — 
for  you.  I  don't  often  interfere.  When  I  do,  I  expect 
obedience." 

"  It  seems  to  me  you  are  blustering  a  good  deal, 
for  one  who  is  sure  of  obedience,"  said  Beatrice,  in  a 
way  that  brought  out  all  her  latent  resemblance  to  the 
incarnation  of  passionate  will  and  willful  passion  who 
begot  her. 

"  I've  always  been  indulgent  with  all  my  family — 
with  you,"  fumed  Richmond.  "  But  I  think  you  know 
me  well  enough  to  know  I'm  not  to  be  trifled  with." 

"  Nor  am  I,"  said  the  girl.  And  again  she  eyed  him 
in  that  unyielding  way. 

"  Where  did  you  and  your  mother  pick  up  that 
vagabond,  anyhow  ?  "  demanded  Richmond. 

"  /  picked  him  up.     D'Artois  told  you " 

"  D'Artois  was  talking  about  him  as  an  artist,  not 
as  an  equal." 

12  169 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Equal !  "  cried  Beatrice.  And  she  laughed  mock 
ingly. 

"  Don't  be  impudent  to  me ! "  raged  her  father. 
4  You've  been  brought  up  in  a  certain  way.  You're 
not  fit  for  any  other  way  of  life.  You  are  not  to  be 
allowed  to  make  a  fool  of  yourself,  to  muddle  your  life 
up.  I'll  have  no  scandals  in  my  family — no  scoundrels 
blackmailing  me  to  release  my  daughter." 

Beatrice's  look  at  him  was  so  appealing,  so  remi 
niscent  of  his  bold  talk  about  democracy,  about  the 
democracy  of  achievement,  that  some  men,  if  they  had 
been  in  his  place,  would  have  been  ashamed  and  con 
founded.  Not  Daniel  Richmond,  however — not  when 
his  plans  of  social  grandeur,  nursed  all  these  years  in 
his  secretest  heart,  were  endangered. 

When  Rhoda  was  marrying  the  Earl  of  Broadstairs 
he  had  been  able  to  keep  his  pose  intact — had  con 
trived  to  protest  against  one  of  his  children's  yielding 
to  the  craze  for  "  decayed  aristocrats  with  fly-blown 
titles,"  and  to  yield  only  because  "  personally,  Broad- 
stairs  wasn't  as  bad  as  some,"  and  because  the  girl  and 
her  mother  had  made  it  clear  to  him  that  her  heart 
would  be  broken  if  she  didn't  get  the  man  she  loved — 
at  the  price  such  luxuries  cost.  He  had  assumed  that 
Beatrice  had  been  equally  well  brought  up — to  love 
where  she  should,  to  do  as  well  in  the  American  upper 

170 


'AN   INFURIATE   FATHER 

class  as  her  sister  had  done  in  the  foreign  upper  class. 
This  revelation  of  her  waywardness,  the  waywardness 
of  the  child  who  was  his  especial  pride,  for  whom  he  had 
dreamed  the  most  dazzling  splendors  of  social  gran 
deurs  in  New  York — this  astounding  revelation  put 
him  in  the  rage  of  his  life.  His  face  was  a  study  in 
hatefulness.  Beatrice  shivered  as  she  looked  at  it — 
but  not  with  fear. 

"  Yes,"  said  she  calmly,  after  a  pause.  "  I've  been 
brought  up  in  a  certain  way.  But  I  was  born  to  insist 
on  having  what  I  want.  I  want  Roger.  And,  father, 
I'm  going  to  have  him — in  spite  of  you  both." 

After  a  pause,  in  a  voice  of  dreadful  calm  Rich 
mond  said :  "  You  are  going  to  marry  Peter  Vander- 
kief  within  six  weeks  or  two  months — or  you  are  going 
to  get  the  shock  of  your  willful  life." 

"  No,"  replied  she,  in  a  voice  of  calm  equally  dread 
ful.  "  I  have  already  had  that  shock.  I  thought 
mother  was  the  snob.  I  thought  women  were  the  snobs. 
But  I  see  it's  the  men — worse  than  the  women — you 
worse  than  mother.  Oh,  father,"  she  said,  changing 
suddenly  to  passionate  pleading,  "  how  can  you  be  like 
this!  You? — of  all  men!" 

"  Never  mind  me,  young  lady,"  snapped  her  father, 
flying  to  the  safe  refuge  of  rage.  "  I'm  going  to  save 
you  from  this  blackmailing  fortune  hunter."  And  the 

171 


WHITE   MAGIC 


unpleasantly  crowded  teeth  showed  savagely  through 
the  ragged  gray  mustache. 

"  I  have  asked  him  to  marry  me,  and " 

"  What !  "  shouted  Richmond,  again  forgetting  the 
groom.  "  Are  you  crazy?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  Beatrice  simply.  "  I  love  him.  I'm 
crazy — permanently  crazy." 

"  Your  mother  will  take  you  to  New  York  this  very 
day.  You'll  sail  day  after  to-morrow  morning." 

"  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the  girl. 

The  sound  Richmond  made  was  in  the  guise  of 
laughter — of  mockery.  But  no  snarl  or  roar  could 
have  been  so  fraught  with  menace.  "We'll  see  about 
this,  miss,"  said  he.  "  I'll  show  you  who  is  master  in 
my  family.  I'll  show  you  you  can't  go  on  degrading 
yourself  with  this  low  intrigue.  That  hound!  So  he 
thought  he  could  fasten  himself  on  me — did  he?  I'll 
teach  him !  " 

"  I  have  proposed  to  him.  He  has  refused  me.  I've 
made  love  to  him.  He  has  repulsed  me." 

Richmond's  cruel  mouth  under  his  ragged  mus 
tache  was  horrible  to  see.  "  You  shameless  girl !  "  he 
cried.  "  It'll  be  one  of  the  servants  next.  I  must  get 
you  safely  married  at  once.  If  your  mother  wasn't 
absolutely  incompetent  she'd  have  had  you  settled  long 


ago." 


172 


AN   INFURIATE    FATHER 

"  I  shall  marry  no  one  but  Roger  Wade,"  came 
from  the  quiet  figure  beside  him  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"  Have  you  got  no  sense  at  all?  You  say  the  pup 
py  refused  you.  Don't  you  know  why?  " 

"  I  know  the  reason  you'd  give." 

"  And  that's  the  real  reason.  He  has  heard  about 
me!  He's  got  brains  enough  to  understand  that  his 
best  game  is  to " 

"  Don't  you  say  another  word  against  him ! " 
cried  Beatrice,  at  the  end  of  her  forbearance.  "  You 
talk  of  my  being  a  fool.  What  do  you  think  of  your 
self?  You  don't  want  me  to  marry  this  man.  How 
do  you  go  about  preventing  it?  Why,  you  show  me 
that  you  are  not  the  father  who,  I  thought,  loved  me, 
but  that  you  couldn't  love  an3Tbody.  You  show  me  that 
you  are  not  the  kind  of  man  I  thought,  but  a  snob,  a 
hypocritical  snob — yes,  a  hypocritical  snob,  who  has 
been  pulling  wires  behind  mother — you  all  the  time 
railing  at  her  and  at  me  and  at  Rhoda  as  snobs.  And 
then,  when  you've  shown  me  the  truth  about  my  sur 
roundings,  you  go  on  to  attack  the  man  I  love — to 
say  about  him  things  I  know  to  be  false.  Is  that  what 
you  call  clever?  " 

"  I'm  glad  you're  letting  me  see  you  in  your  true 
colors,"  said  the  father,  so  exhausted  by  his  passions 
that  his  voice  came  as  little  more  than  a  hoarse  whis- 

173 


WHITE   MAGIC 


per.  "  As  for  that — that  fortune-hunter  who  has  been 
making  a  fool  of  you — don't  ever  mention  his  name  to 
me  again !  " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  jump  out  of  this  cart?  "  cried 
the  daughter,  quivering  with  fury. 

Richmond  pushed  the  horses  into  their  swiftest  trot. 
He  did  not  speak  again  until  he  reined  in  at  the  en 
trance  to  the  gray  chateau.  Then  he  said  viciously, 
"  Go  to  your  rooms  and  get  ready  to  leave  for  New 
York  and  Europe.  You  have  two  hours  and  a  half." 


IX 


FAMILY    BEHIXD-THE-SCEXES 

RICHMOND,  shrewd  student  of  human  nature  and 
well  versed  in  his  favorite  child's  peculiarities  of  will 
and  temper,  did  not  underestimate  what  she  had  re 
vealed  to  him — neither  that  which  she  had  revealed  con 
sciously  nor  the  no  less  important  things  she  had  un 
consciously  implied.  Also,  he  had  seen  the  man  for 
whom  she  confessed  infatuation,  had  measured  his 
physical  attractions  and  had  got  a  fair  notion  of  the 
inner  charms  which  made  the  physical  charms  so  po 
tent.  It  was  a  time  for  swift  and  summary  action ; 
this  adventurer  must  be  got  rid  of  before  he  could  use 
the  foolish  child's  infatuation  to  put  himself  in  a  po 
sition  where  he  might  cause  scandal  and,  if  he  chose, 
could  exact  heavy  blackmail.  Theoretically,  Richmond 
regarded  his  'daughter  as  lovely  and  fascinating  \ 
enough  to  bring  any  man  in  the  world  to  her  feet. 
Practically,  he  believed  feeling  for  her  had  no  part  in 
the  doings  of  "  that  fortune-hunting  hound."  He  had 
been  young  and  now  was  not  far  from  old,  yet  he  had 
not  seen  any  exception  to  the  rule  he  held  axiomatic — • 

175 


WHITE   MAGIC 


that  wherever  money  is  involved  at  all  it  is  the  only 
real  factor. 

Yes,  it  was  a  time  for  action,  instant  and  drastic. 
As  he  drove  back  toward  Wade's  studio  he  strove  with 
his  rage,  trying  to  calm  it  so  that  his  sly  brain  might 
plot  one  of  those  subtle  tricks  which  had  got  him  his 
vast  fortune  and  had  made  him  about  the  most  admired, 
most  hated  and  most  denounced  man  in  American 
finance.  But  every  time  he  thought  of  his  child's  weak- 
minded  lack  of  self-respect  or  of  the  brazen  impudence 
of  the  penniless  artist  he  fell  to  grinding  his  teeth  again 
and  to  cursing  his  inability  to  lock  her  up  until  she 
recovered  her  senses,  and  to  horsewhip  the  artist  out 
of  the  neighborhood.  Richmond  had  been  so  long  used 
to  having  his  will  of  any  and  every  human  being  he 
happened  to  need  that  he  latterly  had  become  really 
insane  when  opposed.  It  was  enough  for  a  man  to 
appear  in  his  pathway;  at  once  he  began  to  take  the 
worst  possible  view  of  that  man's  character,  a  method 
which  greatly  assisted  him  in  stifling  the  voice  of  con 
science.  Time  was  when  he,  like  all  men  who  have  built 
themselves  up  from  small  beginnings,  had  his  temper 
well  under  control,  a  bloodhound  to  be  released  only 
when  it  was  prudent  and  advantageous  to  do  so.  But 
the  habit  of  power  had  wrought  as  destructively  in  him 
as  it  has  in  almost  all  those  who  have  become  rulers, 

176 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

His  temper  was  fast  becoming  a  dangerous  weakness — 
that  traitor  within  who  overthrows  where  foes  without 
could  never  prevail. 

When  he  arrived  in  sight  of  the  studio  there  sat 
"  the  hound  "  on  the  doorsill,  smoking  a  pipe.  Roger 
did  not  move  until  Richmond  was  within,  perhaps, 
twenty  yards — reasonable  speaking  distance;  then  he 
rose  and  waited  in  large  tranquillity.  Richmond  ad 
vanced  until  he  was  about  ten  feet  away.  There  he 
halted.  To  have  gone  nearer  would  have  been  to  put 
himself,  the  small  of  stature  and  the  spare  of  build, 
absurdly  in  contrast  to  the  towering  Roger — like  a 
meager  little  bush  at  the  base  of  a  tree.  Across  the 
space  between  them  he  hurled  at  Roger  one  of  those 
glances  which  Roger  himself  had  described  as  "  aimed 
to  kill." 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir?  "  inquired  the  young 
man  at  length.  He  showed  not  a  hint  that  he  was 
aware  of  the  wrath  storming  in  the  small  man. 

"You — you  damn  scoundrel!"  ejaculated  Rich 
mond  between  his  teeth — for  the  feeling  of  futility 
acted  on  his  rage  like  oil  on  fire. 

Richmond's  mien  had  prepared  Roger  for  some 
thing  like  this,  so  he  bore  the  shock  with  infuriating 
composure.  He  eyed  his  insulter  without  moving 
a  muscle  of  his  face,  then  turned  and  crossed  the 

177 


WHITE   MAGIC 


threshold  of  his  studio,  reaching  for  the  door  to 
close  it. 

"Hold  on  there!"  cried  Richmond.  "I've  got 
something  to  say  to  you." 

Roger  went  on  in  and  closed  the  door.  Richmond 
stared  at  it  with  mouth  ajar.  What  sort  of  a  scheme 
was  this?  What  did  the  fellow  calculate  to  gain  to 
ward  his  ends  by  making  such  a  move?  Richmond 
could  not  but  admire  its  audacity.  "  No  wonder  he 
has  succeeded  in  convincing  the  little  fool  that  he  is 
sincere."  He  advanced  and  opened  the  door.  He  en 
tered  the  big,  bare  room ;  Roger,  crayon  in  hand,  was 
standing  before  the  sketch  that  had  been  upon  the 
easel  when  they  left.  He  did  not  glance  toward  Rich 
mond;  he  did  not  pause  in  his  work.  Richmond  had 
not  entered  without  having  thought  out  a  plan  of  pro 
cedure.  Plain  talk  was  the  thing — not  insulting,  but 
plain.  He  must  frankly  assume  that  the  artist  was  a 
detected  and  baffled  plotter  of  a  marriage  for  money. 

"  My  daughter  has  confessed  to  me,"  said  Rich- 
\  mond  in  a  tone  that  was  at  least  not  insulting.  "  I 
have  talked  with  her,  and  she  is  already  ashamed  of 
herself.  So  I  have  come  from  her  to  inform  you  that 
it  will  be  useless  for  you  to  pursue  your  projects 
further." 

The  big,  young  man  stood  back  from  his  sketch, 
178 


There  ought  to  be  a  law  that  could  reach  fellows  like  you/" 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

eyed  it  critically.  A  thin  stream  of  smoke  curled  from 
the  pipe  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth.  He  went  on  draw 
ing  as  if  he  were  alone  in  the  room. 

"  I  wish  you  clearly  to  understand,"  pursued  Rich 
mond,  "  that  your  attentions  are  distasteful  to  her  and 
to  her  family.  Acquaintance  with  her  must  cease." 

Roger  sketched  ou. 

As  physical  violence  was  out  of  the  question,  Rich 
mond  did  not  know  what  to  do — how  to  extricate  him 
self  from  the  absurd  position  into  which  his  wrath  had 
hurried  him.  He  glowered  at  the  big  artist.  The 
sense  of  impotence  set  his  rage  to  steaming.  "  And 
I  must  tell  you  that  if  you  had  not  had  the  cleverness 
to  hold  off — if  you  had  lured  that  foolish  child  into 
marriage — you'd  never  have  got  a  cent — not  a  cent! 
I'd  cast  off  a  child  of  mine  who  so  disgraced  her  family. 
I'd  forget  she  existed.  But  now  that  she  realizes  how 
she  was  trapped — what  a  slick  citizen  you  are — she's 
ashamed  of  herself — ashamed  of  herself.  There  ought 
to  be  a  law  that  could  reach  fellows  like  you." 

While  he  was  talking  Roger  was  pushing  his  easel 
into  the  huge  closet.  He  now  closed  and  locked  it, 
threw  his  coat  over  his  arm  and  strode  calmly  past 
Richmond  and  out  at  the  door.  Not  a  word,  not  a 
glance,  not  a  sign.  Richmond  followed  him  slowly. 
Roger  marched  at  a  long,  swinging  gait  down  the  hill 

179 


WHITE   MAGIC 


toward  the  east  and  disappeared  into  the  woods.  Rich 
mond  stared  after  him.  When  the  undergrowth  hid 
him  from  view  Richmond  took  out  his  handkerchief  and 
mopped  his  face.  In  a  long  life  dotted  with  many  an 
unusual  scene  between  him  and  sundry  of  his  fellow- 
men  he  had  never  experienced  the  like  of  this. 

"  The  scoundrel !  "  he  said,  a  look  of  reluctant  re 
spect  in  his  wrathful  eyes.  "  The  best  game  I  ever  ran 
up  against." 

He  must  hurry  his  girl  out  of  the  country — and 
not  give  her  an  unwatched  moment  until  the  steamer 
was  clear  of  the  dock. 

Meanwhile,  Beatrice  had  gone  to  her  mother. 

Mrs.  Richmond  was  taking  advantage  of  a  lull  in 
the  entertaining  to  give  herself  a  thorough  physical 
overhauling.  The  lower  part  of  the  west  wing  was 
fitted  up  as  a  complete  gymnasium,  with  a  swimming 
pool  underneath.  She  had  played  basket  ball  with  her 
secretary  and  companion,  Miss  Gleets,  had  fenced  ten 
minutes,  had  swum  twenty,  and  was  now  tying  on  a 
lounge  in  her  boudoir,  preparing  to  go  off  into  a  de 
licious  sleep.  In  came  Beatrice. 

"  Well,  mamma,"  said  she,  "  the  fat's  in  the  fire." 

Mrs.  Richmond  opened  her  drowsy  eyes.  "  You've 
told  your  father  ?  " 

180 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

Beatrice  nodded.     "  And  he  promptly  blew  up." 

"  I  was  sure  he  would." 

Beatrice's  expression — strange,  satirical,  sad,  bit 
terly  sad — could  not  but  have  impressed  her  mother 
had  she  not  been  more  than  half  asleep.  "  You  knew 
him  better  than  I  did,"  said  the  girl.  "  Still — no  mat 
ter." 

"  We'll  talk  about  it  after  I've  had  my  nap." 

"  Oh,  there's  nothing  to  talk  about." 

"  That's  true,"  said  her  mother  comfortably,  as  she 
slid  luxuriously  down  the  descent  into  unconsciousness 
— or  is  it  an  ascent?  "  You  know  there's  nothing  to  do 
but  to  obey  your  father.  And  he's  right.  You'll  be 
better  satisfied  with  Peter."  And  Mrs.  Richmond  was 
asleep. 

Beatrice  stood  looking  at  her  mother.  Her  ex 
pression  of  somewhat  undaughterly  pity  vanished  and 
there  was  a  rush  of  tears  to  her  eyes,  an  uncontrollable 
tremor  of  the  fresh,  young  lips  usually  curved  in  re 
sponse  to  emotions  in  which  tenderness  had  little  part. 
"  Dear  mother,"  she  murmured.  She  understood  her 
mother's  lot  now,  and  sympathized  in  a  way  which 
Daniel  Richmond's  wife,  unconscious  what  havoc  those 
years  of  gradually  deepened  slavery  had  wrought  in 
her  mind,  her  heart,  her  whole  life,  would  have  regarded 
as  hysterical  and  silly.  Love  had  lifted  Beatrice  above 

181 


WHITE   MAGIC 


the  narrow  environment  in  which  she  had  been  bred  and 
had  quickened  her  to  a  sense  of  values  she  could  hardly 
have  got  otherwise.  She  saw  her  mother  as  she  was, 
as  her  mother  could  no  more  have  seen  herself  than  the 
lifelong  drunkard,  happy  in  his  squalid  sottishness, 
could  reconstruct  and  regret  the  innocence  from  which 
he  has  dropped  into  the  depths  by  a  gradient  so  easy 
that  it  was  unnoted.  The  girl  realized  that  her 
mother's  chief  substantial  happiness  was  inability  to 
comprehend  her  own  fate.  "  Thank  God,"  said  she  to 
herself,  "  I  had  my  eyes  opened  in  time."  And  one 
by  one  before  her  passed  faces  of  fashionable  matrons, 
young  and  old,  whom  she  knew  well — hard  or  harden 
ing  features,  like  landscapes  upon  which  only  bleak 
winds  blow  and  only  meager  light  from  cold,  gray 
skies  falls;  eyes  from  which  looked  shriveled  souls, 
souls  in  which  all  human  sympathy,  save  the  conde 
scending  charity  that  is  vanity  rather  than  sympathy, 
had  dried  up ;  lives  filled  with  shams  and  pretenses ; 
trim  and  showy  gardens  in  which  no  flower  had  per 
fume,  no  fruit  had  taste,  and  where  shone  not  one  of 
the  free,  beautiful  blossoms  of  genuine  love.  Not  hard 
hearts  really,  but  shriveled;  not  unhappy  lives,  but 
stunted  and  sunless,  like  plants  grown  in  the  luxury 
of  a  rich  loam — in  a  dark  cellar.  The  shock  of  dis 
illusionment  as  to  her  father  completed  for  Beatrice  the 

182 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

transformation  that  had  been  started  by  the  under 
mining  effect  of  Roger  upon  her  conventional  ideas — 
as  a  thunderbolt  crashes  down  a  weakened  dam  and 
releases  its  floods. 

Beatrice  passed  a  light  and  caressing  hand  over  her 
mother's  beautifully  arranged  hair,  bent  and  kissed  her. 
Then  she  stole  from  the  room — with  a  lingering  glance 
of  tenderest  sweetness  back  from  the  threshold. 

An  hour  and  a  quarter  ticked  away  in  that  splen 
did  room,  with  its  wall  coverings  and  upholsteries  of 
dark-red  brocaded  silk.  In  stepped  Richmond,  brisk 
and  bristling.  He  frowned  at  his  sleeping  wife,  tap 
ping  his  foot  impatiently  upon  the  floor.  "  Lucy !  " 
he  called  sharply. 

Mrs.  Richmond's  eyes  opened,  saw  him.  Over  her 
face  flitted  an  expression  as  primeval  and  as  moving  as 
that  of  a  weary  slave  awakened  from  delightful  sleep 
to  resume  the  hated  toil.  "Why  did  you  wake  me?" 
she  cried  peevishly. 

"Where's  Beatrice?" 

Mrs.  Richmond  resumed  her  normal  expression  of 
haughty  discontent.  "  She  was  in  here  a  while  ago," 
replied  she.  "  In  her  rooms,  probably." 

"  Did  she  tell  you?  "  asked  he. 

"About  Wade?" 

"  Yes,"  snapped  her  husband.  "  What  else  is 
183 


WHITE   MAGIC 


there,  pray?  Has  she  been  up  to  something  else  dis 
graceful?  " 

"  Why,  Dan,  she's  done  nothing  disgraceful,"  cried 
the  mother.  "  Every  girl  has  those  passing  fancies. 
But  she'll  not  oppose  you.  Anyhow,  her  own  good 
sense " 

Richmond  gave  an  impatient  snort.  "  She's  a  fool 
— an  impetuous  fool." 

His  wife  ventured  a  sly,  catlike  look  from  the  cor 
ner  of  her  eye  into  his  back.  "  You  always  say  she's 
the  most  like  you  of  any  of " 

"  She  takes  her  impetuosity  from  me.  I  hardly 
need  say  from  whom  she  inherits  her  folly." 

"  I  can  see  nothing  to  get  excited  about."  And 
Mrs.  Richmond  stretched  herself  in  preparation  for  a 
leisurely  sitting  up. 

Richmond  regarded  his  wife  with  his  habitual  ex 
pression  of  disdain  for  her  uselessness.  He  said  per 
emptorily  :  "  You  are  going  to  town  this  evening  with 
her,  and  you  take  her  abroad  day  after  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Richmond  sat  up  as  if  she  had  been  prodded 
with  a  spike.  "  I  can't  do  it !  "  she  cried.  "  I  can't 
get  ready.  And  we've  got  invitations  out  for " 

"  I'm  going  to  send  my  own  secretary — Lawton — 
along  with  you,  to  watch  her  and  report  to  me,"  said 
Richmond.  "  You  have  shown  that  you  are  unable  to 

184 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

take  care  of  her.  Excited?  Indeed  I  am  excited.  To 
find  that  a  wretched  fortune  hunter  has  just  about 
foisted  himself  on  me.  And  what  of  our  plans  for  the 
girl's  future?  Have  bridge  and  these  masseuses  and 
hair  women  and  all  the  rest  of  the  fiddle-faddle  that  you 
fuddle  about  with  taken  from  you  the  last  glimmerings 
of  sense?  "  He  was  storming  up  and  down  the  room. 
"  Good  Heaven !  Have  I  got  to  take  one  eye  off  my 
business  to  keep  guard  over  my  family  ?  Are  you  good 
for  nothing,  Lucy?" 

"  I  hope  you  were  careful  what  you  said  to  her," 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Richmond,  alarmed  by  his  complete 
lack  of  self-control.  There  had  been  many  bitter 
scenes  between  them  since  their  love  waned  as  their 
wealth  waxed.  But  theretofore  he  had  attacked  her 
with  irony  and  sarcasm,  with  sneer  and  jeer.  Never 
before  had  he  used  straight  denunciation,  made  coarse 
and  brutal  by  a  manner  he  had  hitherto  reserved  for 
the  office.  "  You  can't  treat  her  as  you  treat  the  rest 
of  us,"  she  warned  him. 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  "  demanded  he.  As  she  was 
silent,  he  repeated.  "  Why  not  ?  I  said !  "  he  cried  in  a 
tone  so  menacing,  so  near  a  blow,  that  she  flushed  a 
deep  and  angry  red. 

"  Because    you   have   made   her    independent,"    the 
wife  was  stung  into  replying. 
!3  185 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  What  imbecility !  "  scoff ed  he,  enraged  by  this 
home  truth  that  had  been  tormenting  him  for  several 
hours.  "  She's  got  less  than  any  of  the  rest  of  you. 
I've  purposely  kept  her  where  she'd  have  to  behave  her 
self  and  love  me.  Your  mind  never  was  strong,  Lucy. 
It  has  become  flabby." 

Mrs.  Richmond  was  completely  possessed  by  her 
anger.  A  cowed  creature  is  hardest  to  provoke,  can 
not  be  roused  until  it  is  literally  crazed;  then  it  is  like 
any  other  lunatic.  She  laughed  in  the  face  of  her  ty 
rant.  "  Love !  "  she  jeered.  "  Love  you !  You  haven't 
the  least  sense  of  humor,  Dan,  or  you  couldn't  say  that." 

Richmond  quailed. 

"  It's  true,  Beatrice  has  less  than  the  rest  of  us.  But 
Rhoda  and  I  need  more  than  she  does.  Anyway,  my 
life's  practically  over.  I've  got  no  future — no  hope 
elsewhere,  or  " — she  sprang  up  and  her  eyes  glittered 
insanely  at  him — "  or  do  you  suppose  I'd  stay  on  with 
you — you  who  have  become  nothing  but  a  slave  driver? 
Then  there's  Rhoda.  She  and  her  husband  need  quan 
tities  of  money.  The  little  you've  given  her  is  nothing 
to  what  she  wants  and  fawns  on  you  to  get.  As  for 
the  boys,  they're  too  fond  of  being  rich  and  showing 
off  to  dare  do  anything  but  cringe 

"  A  nice  brood  you've  brought  up,  haven't  you  ?  " 
frothed  her  husband. 

186 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

"  They're  your  children  at  heart — all  of  them. 
You've  ruined  them.  Yes,  you — not  I,  but  you !  " 

He  turned  his  back  on  her.  "  You  go  to  Europe 
day  after  to-morrow,  all  the  same,"  he  cried. 

"  I'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort ! "  retorted  she. 

"  You  will  spend  the  money  I  allow  you  in  the  way 
I  direct,  or  you  will  not  get  it,"  rejoined  he.  "  Ring 
for  your  secretary  and  your  maid  and  the  housekeeper. 
Set  this  swarm  of  idlers  in  motion.  There's  no  time  to 
be  lost." 

"  I'll  not  go !  " 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  give  the  orders  ?  Do  you 
want  the  servants  to " 

"  Oh,  you — devil!  "  she  screamed.  Then  she  burst 
into  hysterical  tears.  "  And  I've  got  no  will.  I'm  a 
weak,  degraded  nothing.  If  I  were  a  dozen  years 
younger !  Oh — oh — oh !  " 

Richmond  rang  the  bell.  "  I've  rung  for  your 
maid,"  said  he.  "  Stop  that  slopping — and  get  busy." 
His  tone  indicated  that  he  was  not  wholly  pleased  with 
himself. 

His  wife  hastily  dried  her  tears  and  hurried  into 
her  dressing  room  to  remove  the  traces  and  to  hearten 
herself  with  a  stiff  drink  of  brandy.  Richmond  con 
tinued  to  pace  the  boudoir.  Marthe,  the  suave  and 
ladylike,  appeared  with  a  note  on  her  tray.  She  cour- 

187 


WHITE   MAGIC 


tesied  to  Richmond  and  moved  toward  the  dressing- 
room  door.  "What  have  you  got  there?"  demanded 
Richmond. 

"  A  note  for  madame — from  mademoiselle." 

Richmond  snatched  it  from  the  little,  silver  tray, 
tore  it  open.  His  hand  shook  as  he  read.  "  Where  did 
you  get  this  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  voice  from  which  all  the 
passion  had  died. 

"  Mademoiselle  gave  it  to  Fillet  as  she  was  driving 
away." 

"  Go !  "  said  Richmond ;  and  as  she  went  into  the 
hall  he  entered  the  dressing  room.  His  wife  was  before 
the  dressing-table  mirror  powdering  her  nose.  He 
flung  the  note  down  before  her.  "  Read  that,"  he 
cried. 

Mrs.  Richmond  read: 

Dearest  Mother: 

This  is  to  say  good-by — for  the  present.  I've  gone 
to  New  York  to  stop  with  Allie  Kinnear  and  look  about. 
I've  no  plans  except  not  to  come  under  father's  roof 
again.  I  thought  he  loved  me.  I've  found  that  he 
hasn't  any  heart  to  love  anybody.  He  can't  bribe  me 
into  putting  up  with  his  tyranny.  I'm  afraid  he'll  be 
cowardly  enough  to  vent  on  you  the  rage  for  what's 
all  his  own  fault.  But  he'd  do  that  if  I  stayed  on.  So, 
I  don't  make  it  worse  for  you  by  going.  Forgive  me, 

188 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

mamma.     I  love  you  better  than  I  ever  did  in  my  life. 
I'm  so  sorry  to  go — yet  glad,  too. 

BEATRICE. 

Mrs.  Richmond  laid  the  note  calmly  aside  and  re 
sumed  powdering  her  nose.  She  turned  her  head  this 
way  and  that,  to  study  effects  from  different  lights. 
Apparently  the  note  had  made  upon'  her  no  stronger  im 
pression  than  would  have  been  made  by  the  swift  passage 
of  a  fly  between  her  and  the  mirror. 

"  She's  gone,"  said  Richmond,  in  a  dazed  way. 

"  And  I  doubt  if  she'll  come  back,"  said  his  wife. 

"  You  must  bring  her  back." 

Mrs.  Richmond  was  searching  in  the  drawer  for 
some  toilet  article.  "  I  can  do  nothing  with  her,"  said 
she  absently.  "  You  know  that.  Where  has  Marthe 
put " 

"  You  act  as  if  you  did  not  care,"  snarled  he. 

"  And  I  don't,"  replied  the  wife  indifferently. 
"  She's  better  off.  I  hope  she'll  marry  Wade." 

"  Marry?  "  sneered  Richmond.  "  Do  you  suppose 
he'd  marry  her  when  he  finds  out  that  she  has  cut  her 
self  off?" 

"  Maybe  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Richmond,  with  intent 
to  infuriate. 

Richmond,  with  the  wounds  to  his  vanity  inflicted 
by  Roger  open  again  and  burning  and  bleeding,  gave 

189 


WHITE   MAGIC 


a  kind  of  howl  of  rage.  "  Don't  be  a  fool ! "  he 
shouted.  "  I  say  he  will  not  marry  her !  " 

"  Then  you  ought  to  be  satisfied,"  said  his  wife 
pleasantly. 

"  Satisfied?  "  Richmond,  white  with  rage,  shook  his 
hand  in  her  very  face.  "  Satisfied?  With  the  only 
one  of  my  family  that  was  worth  while  gone — you  talk 
about  my  being  satisfied!  " 

"  Then  why  did  you  drive  her  out?  "  inquired  she 
coldly. 

Richmond  flung  out  his  arms  in  a  vague,  wild  ges 
ture,  and  rushed  to  the  open  window. 

"  You  might  go  to  Kinnear's  and  talk  with  her," 
suggested  his  wife. 

"  Say  what?  "  demanded  Richmond  over  his  shoul 
der. 

"How  should  I  know?" 

He  wheeled  round.  "  Are  you  on  her  side  or  on 
mine?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  just  a  fool,"  said  Lucy. 

Richmond's  scowl  at  her  changed  to  a  scowl  into 
vacancy.  The  scowl  faded  into  a  mere  stare.  Sudden 
ly  he  burst  out  in  a  voice  from  which  grief  had  washed 
every  trace  of  anger :  "  I've  got  to  have  her  back !  I've 
got  to  have  her  back." 

Mrs.  Richmond's  expression  of  amazement  slowly 
190 


FAMILY   BEHIND-THE-SCENES 

yielded  to  one  of  sullen  jealousy.  "  That's  right," 
sneered  she.  "  Go  and  apologize  to  her.  Knuckle 
down  to  her." 

The  husband,  a  wholly  different  figure  from  the 
bristling,  bustling,  self-assured  tyrant  of  a  few  min 
utes  before,  went  out  without  another  word.  The  wife 
looked  after  him.  The  humiliation  of  having  her 
daughter  exalted  while  she  herself  was  in  the  dust  un 
der  his  contemptuous  foot  had  one  consolation — the 
tyrant  had  met  his  match  and  might  himself  soon  be 
abased. 


BEATRICE    IN    CHAINS 

IN  any  city  but  New  York,  and  even  there  in  any 
set  but  the  one  to  which  they  belonged,  the  Kinnears 
would  have  been  regarded  as  rich.  But  in  the  company 
they  kept,  their  strainings  and  strugglings  to  hold  the 
pace  were  the  subject  of  many  a  jest  and  gibe.  Had 
they  not  been  of  such  superior  birth — not  merely  Colo 
nial  but  Tory  and  forced  to  do  exceeding  shrewd  and 
heavy  bribing  to  get  back  the  estates  forfeited  to  low 
born  Patriots — they  would  have  ranked  almost  as 
hangers-on.  Another  generation,  another  dividing  up 
of  those  meager  millions,  and  the  Kinnears  would  cease 
to  make  any  part  of  the  blaze  of  plutocracy's  high  so 
ciety,  would  shine  as  modest  satellites,  by  reflected  light. 
Thus,  it  was  necessary  that  lovely  Alicia  Kinnear  marry 
money — big  money.  Beatrice  Richmond's  brother  Hec 
tor  was  about  as  good  a  catch  as  there  was  going;  so, 
Beatrice  and  Allie  became  friends  at  school — Alicia, 
being  a  sensible  girl  sensibly  trained  from  the  cradle, 
needed  no  specific  instruction  from  her  mother  in  the 
noble  and  useful  art  of  choosing  friends.  The  friend- 

192 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 


ship  grew  into  intimacy,  and  Alicia  saw  to  it  that  noth 
ing  occurred  to  produce  even  temporary  coolings — this, 
with  not  the  least  show  of  sycophantry,  which  would 
immediately  have  disgusted  Beatrice;  on  the  contrary, 
what  Beatrice  most  admired  in  dear  Alicia  was  her  inde- 
pendence,  her  absolute  freedom  from  the  faintest  taint 
of  snobbishness.  If  Beatrice  had  been  more  experi 
enced  she  might  perhaps  have  become  suspicious  of  this 
unalloyed  virtue.  There  is  always  good  ground  for  sus 
picion  when  we  find  a  human  being  apparently  entirely 
without  a  touch  of  any  universal  human  failing ;  Nature 
has  so  arranged  it  that  each  of  us  has  a  little  of  every 
thing  in  his  composition,  and  the  elements  that  show  in 
a  character  are  rarely  so  important  as  those  deep  out 
of  sight.  However,  Alicia  was  a  sweet  and  generous 
girl,  and  gave  a  very  pleasant  and  praiseworthy  quality 
of  liking  where  she  felt  that  her  station  and  circum- 
stances  permitted  her  to  like — and  how  many  of  us  can 
make  a  better  showing? 

When  Beatrice,  with  Valentine,  her  maid,  and  two 
trunks,  entered  the  big,  old  house  in  Park  Avenue  where 
the  Kinnears  maintained  upper-class  estate,  Alicia  was 
waiting  with  open  arms.  "  Your  telegram  only  just 
came,"  said  she,  hugging  and  kissing  Beatrice  delight 
edly.  "  But  the  rooms  are  ready — your  rooms — and 
we've  got  Peter  coming  to  dinner  to-night." 

193 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Peter  !  "  Beatrice  made  a  face.  "  Give  me  any 
one  else — anyone  else." 

Alicia's  blue  eyes — beautiful  eyes  they  were,  so 
clear,  so  soft,  so  delicately  shaded — opened  wide. 
"  Why,  Trixy,  I  thought " 

"  So  it  was,"  cut  in  Beatrice.  "  But  that's  off. 
Close  the  door" — they  had  just  entered  the  sitting 
room  of  the  charming  suite  set  aside  for  "  darling  Bea 
trice  "— "  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it— that  is,  all  I 
can  tell  just  now." 

"  Oh,  you  and  Hanky  will  make  it  up — 

"  Never !     Whoever  I  may  marry,  it'll  not  be  he." 

Alicia  looked  shocked,  grieved.  And  she  was 
shocked  and  grieved.  But  underneath  this  propriety 
of  friendly  emotion  she  had  already  begun  to  consider 
that,  if  this  were  really  true,  Peter  would  return  to  the 
ranks  of  the  eligibles — and  he  was  through  Harvard, 
while  Heck  Richmond  was  a  junior  and  only  a  few- 
months  older  than  herself.  An  inexcusable  duplicity — 
that  is,  inexcusable  in  any  but  a  human  being  circum 
stanced  as  was  Alicia. 

Beatrice  laughed  at  her  bosom  friend's  mournful  ex 
pression.  "  Oh,  drop  it,"  cried  she.  "  You  know  Peter 
is  no  real  loss.  He's  all  right,  of  course — a  clean,  de 
cent  fellow,  with  a  talent  for  dressing  himself  well.  But 
no  one  would  ever  get  excited  about  him." 

194 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 


"  Does  anybody  get  excited  about  anybody,  nowa 
days  ?  "  laughed  Alicia. 

Beatrice  nodded ;  into  her  eyes  and  out  again  flashed 
a  look  that  could  not  but  put  so  shrewd  and  sympathetic 
a  friend  as  Allie  into  possession  of  her  secret. 

"Who?"  said  Allie  breathlessly.  "The  Count? 
Oh,  Trixy,  you're  not  going  to  marry  away  off 

"  Not  the  Count,"  was  Beatrice's  quick,  disdainful 
interruption.  "What  do  you  take  me  for?  He's 
shorter  than  I  and  horribly  old — over  forty." 

"  I  don't  think  age  matters  in  a  man,"  observed  the 
charitable  Alicia. 

"  I  do,"  retorted  Beatrice.  "  Not,  of  course,  if 
one's  marrying  for — for  other  things  than  love.  But  I 
couldn't  love  an  elderly  man." 

"Is  forty  elderly?" 

"  Isn't  it?  "  replied  Beatrice. 

"  But  who  is  he  ?  "  implored  Allie,  all  aquiver  with 
curiosity. 

Beatrice  permitted  a  beatific  expression  bordering 
on  fatuous  folly  to  overspread  her  fair,  young  face. 
"  Do  you  remember — down  at  Red  Hill — the  last  time 
you  were  there — the  biggest,  grandest,  handsomest  man 
you  ever  saw " 

"The  artist!"  cried  Allie  in  dismay.  "Oh,  dear 
est,  I  thought  you  were  just  flirting.  And  you  are. 

195 


WHITE   MAGIC 


You  wouldn't —  Your  mother'd  never — never — con 
sent.  Isn't  he — poor?  " 

"  How  can  you  talk  like  that?  "  exclaimed  Beatrice, 
with  all  the  new  convert's  energy  in  indignation. 

"  Well — one  has  got  to  live,  you  know,"  urged 
Allie.  "  And  if  he's  poor — and  your  father  doesn't  con 
sent " 

Beatrice  laughed  curtly — she  had  many  mannerisms 
that  reminded  one  of  her  father.  "  I'm  not  married  yet 
— nor  engaged." 

"  Have  you  talked  with  your  father  and  mother  ?  " 
inquired  her  worldly  wise  friend. 

Miss  Richmond  again  gave  a  sweetened  and  feminine 
version  of  her  father's  sardonic  laugh.  "  That's  why 
I'm  here.  I've  broken  with  father." 

"Oh,  Trixy!"  exclaimed  Allie  in  terror.  "You 
can't  do  that !  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  can.  I  have."  She  beamed  on  her 
friend.  "  And  I've  come  to  ask  you  to  give  me  shelter 
for  a  few  days — till  I  can  look  about.  Father  wanted 
me  to  marry  Peter.  I  refused.  He  insulted  me.  Here 
I  am." 

Alicia  kissed  her  with  enthusiasm.  "  What  a  strong 
dear  you  are !  "  cried  she.  This  remark  seemed  to  her  a 
wise  and  friendly — and  discreet — compromise.  It  did 
not  approve  unfilial  conduct.  It  did  not  encourage 

196 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 

Beatrice  to  weaken  her  opposition  to  Hanky  Vander- 
kief .  It  did  not  commit  the  Kinnears  to  anything  what 
soever.  "  But  you  must  dress  for  dinner.  Of  course 
I'll  give  you  another  man.  I'll  change  my  man  to  you 
and  take  Peter.  It's  good  to  have  you  here.  I  must 
rush  away  to  dress." 

But  Miss  Kinnear  was  not  in  such  mad  haste  that 
she  could  not  look  in  on  her  mother,  who  was  being 
hooked  up  by  her  maid.  "  I'll  finish  mamma,  Ger- 
maine,"  said  Alicia.  "  I  want  to  say  something  to  her." 
And  the  instant  they  were  alone  she  came  out  with  it: 
"  Beatrice  has  broken  with  her  father  because  she 
doesn't  want  to  marry  Peter.  And  she  has  come  to  stay 
with  us." 

Alicia  hooked ;  her  mother  stood  patiently,  appar 
ently  studying  in  the  long  mirror  the  way  Germaine 
had  done  her  soft,  gray  hair.  Of  all  the  women  in  New 
York  who  led  the  fashionable  life,  not  one  was  able  to 
invest  the  despicable  arts  of  prudence  and  calculation 
with  so  much  real  grace  and  virtue  as  Mrs.  John  Kin- 
near. 

"  What  shall  I  do,  mother?  "  Alicia  finally  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  replied  Mrs.  Kinnear,  in  the  tone  of 
one  who  has  deliberated  and  decided.  "  We'll  wait  and 
see.  Certainly,  that  dreadful,  dangerous  devil  of  a 
father  of  hers  can't  object  to  us  giving  his  daughter 

197 


WHITE   MAGIC 


shelter — while  we  wait  for  him  to  try  and  get  her  back. 
.  .  .  Beatrice  is  very  obstinate." 

66  Like  iron — like  steel.  She  says  she's  in  love  with 
an  artist.  He  is  terribly  handsome,  but  not  the  sort  of 
man  one  would  marry." 

"Foreigner?" 

66  No,  American.  I  never  heard  of  him.  I  can't  re 
member  his  name." 

"  Good  Lord,  the  girl's  crazy,"  said  Mrs.  Kinnear. 
"  Why  did  Mrs.  Richmond  let  a  man  of  that  sort  have 
a  chance  to  get  well  acquainted  with  her  daughter? 
Still,  who'd  have  thought  it  of  Beatrice?  I'd  as  soon 
have  expected  you  to  do  it." 

"  Beatrice  has  got  a  queer  streak  in  her,"  explained 
Alicia.  "  You  know,  her  father  is — or  was — very  ordi 
nary." 

"  No,  that's  not  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Kinnear  reflect 
ively.  "  Those  things  aren't  matters  of  birth  and 
breeding.  I've  seen  the  lowest  kind  of  tastes  in  people 
of  excellent  blood." 

"  How  sweet  you  look !  .  .  .  I  must  dress.  You  ad 
vise  me  to  do  nothing?  She  didn't  want  Peter  at  din 
ner.  So — I'll  take  him." 

That  little  rest  between  the  "  so  "  and  the  "  I'll " 
was  an  excellent  instance  of  the  way  mother  and  daugh 
ter  had  of  conveying  to  each  other  those  things  impos- 

198 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 


sible  of  speech — the  things  that  sound  vulgar  or  shock 
ing  or  basely  contriving  if  put  into  words.  And  in  no 
respect  does  the  difference  between  the  well  bred  and  the 
common  display  itself  so  signally  as  in  these  small-large 
matters  of  what  to  say  and  what  to  imply.  By  this 
significance  of  silences  mother  and  daughter  were  in  the 
position — the  happy  position — of  being  able  most  sin 
cerely  and  most  virtuously,  to  deny  even  to  themselves 
any  and  all  intent  of  subtle  or  snobbish  or  intriguing 
thought.  To  impute  such  thoughts  to  such  people  is  to 
excite  their  just  indignation.  As  Allie  departed  to 
dress,  her  mother  sent  after  her  a  glance  of  admiring 
love.  She  had  brought  her  daughter  up  not  as  daugh 
ter,  but  as  bosom  friend,  and  she  was  reaping  the  rich 
reward ;  for  Allie  Kinnear,  caring  so  little  about  every 
one  else  that  at  bottom  she  neither  strongly  liked  nor 
strongly  disliked  anybody,  reserved  and  poured  upon 
her  mother  all  the  love  of  her  heart. 

When  the  five  women  at  the  dinner  were  in  the  draw 
ing-room  afterwards  waiting  for  the  men,  Mrs.  Kinnear 
found  an  opportunity  to  say  to  Allie :  "  Richmond  tele 
phoned  just  before  I  came  down.  He  is  delighted  that 
Beatrice  is  with  us — wants  us  to  keep  her  until  he 
comes." 

"  She  says  she  won't  see  him,"  said  Alicia. 

"  I  think  I  can  persuade  her." 
199 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Mrs.  Kinnear  was  right.  When  Richmond  called 
the  following  afternoon  and  Beatrice  reiterated  her  re 
fusal,  Mrs.  Kinnear  said  in  her  inimitable  way,  sweet, 
sensible,  friendly :  "  My  dear,  don't  you  see  that  you 
are  putting  yourself  in  the  wrong  ?  " 

"Why  quarrel  with  him?"  objected  Beatrice. 
"  Why  stupidly  repeat  again  and  again  that  I  will  not 
marry  Peter?  My  mind  is  made  up.  I  shall  not  change, 
and  he  knows  it." 

Mrs.  Kinnear  had  already  debated — without  letting 
herself  know  what  she  was  about — whether  or  not  to  do 
all  in  her  power  to  maintain  the  strained  relations  of 
father  and  daughter,  "  and  help  save  poor  Beatrice 
from  the  misery  of  marriage  with  a  man  she  hates — a 
man  who  deserves  a  good  wife."  She  had  decided 
against  siding  with  the  girl  because  of  the  dangers  in 
incurring  the  relentless  wrath  of  powerful  Richmond. 
So,  her  reply  now  was :  "  Dear  Beatrice,  you  needn't  be 
afraid  of  your  father." 

She  had  calculated  well.  Beatrice  reared  proudly. 
"  Perhaps  it  does  look  as  if  I  were  afraid  to  face  him," 
said  she,  all  unconscious  that  Mrs.  Kinnear  was  bend 
ing  her  to  her  will  as  easily  as  a  basket  maker  bends  an 
osier  withe.  "  Yes — I'll  go  down." 

And  down  she  swept,  to  pause  in  statuelike  coldness 
upon  the  threshold  of  the  drawing-room,  where  her 

200 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 


small,    wiry    father   was    pacing    agitatedly.      "  Well, 
father  ?  "  said  she. 

They  looked  at  each  other  in  silence — measuring 
each  other — or,  rather,  daughter  submitting  calmly  to 
her  father's  keen,  measuring  eyes,  while  she  wondered 
how  a  man  so  strong  and  daring  as  he  could  have  such 
a  pitiful  weakness  as  snobbishness.  At  last  Richmond 
said  pleasantly :  "  Beatrice,  I've  come  to  take  you  back 
home." 

She  advanced  to  a  chair,  into  which  she  dropped 
with  graceful  deliberation.  "  I  thought  you  had  come 
to  apologize."  Her  tone  was  a  subtle  provocation. 

He  flushed  a  little — a  faint  glow  upon  his  dry, 
wrinkled  face  with  its  huge  forehead,  its  huge  nose  and 
its  dwindling  and  wily  little  chin.  "  That,  too,"  said 
he  with  astonishing  self-restraint.  "  I  was  so  mad  yes 
terday  that  I  lost  my  head.  My  digestion  isn't  what  it 
once  was.  My  nerves  are  frayed  out." 

"  You  admit  you  wronged  Roger  Wade  ?  " 

Richmond  winced,  but  held  to  the  game  he  had  de 
cided  upon.  "  I  admit  I  know  nothing  about  him — ex 
cept,  of  course,  what  D'Artois  said.  But  I  can't  hon 
estly  say  I  believe  in  him.  I  still  feel  he  is  a  fortune 
hunter." 

"  I  can  understand  that,"  said  Beatrice,  unbending 
a  little.     "  I  suspected  him,  myself." 
14  201 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Trust  to  your  intuition,  Beatrice,"  cried  Rich 
mond  cordially.  "  It  always  guides  right." 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  observed  his 
daughter.  "  For  my  intuition  was  that  he  was  simple 
as  a  baby  about  money  matters.  The  nasty  suspicion 
came  afterwards — when  I  was  piqued  because  he  had  re 
fused  me." 

Richmond  made  a  large,  generous  gesture,  strove — 
not  unsuccessfully — to  accompany  it  with  a  large,  gen 
erous  expression.  "  Well — that's  all  past  and  gone. 
Are  you  ready  to  go  home  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  going  home,  father,"  said  Beatrice  in  an 
ominously  quiet  tone. 

Richmond  ignored.  "  Oh,  you  want  to  stay  with 
Allie  a  few  days?  Why  not  take  her  down  with  you? 
.  .  .  The  fact  is "  — Richmond  cleared  his  throat — 
"  the  place  seems  lonely  without  you." 

Beatrice's  glance  fell.  Her  sensitive,  upper  lip 
moved  nervously — the  faintest  tremor  quickly  con 
trolled. 

"  My  car's  at  the  door,"  he  went  on,  an  old  man's 
fear-laden  eagerness  in  his  voice.  "  It'll  take  us  straight 
to  the  station."  He  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  We'll  be 
in  time  for  that  first  express." 

Beatrice  did  not  dare  look  at  him.  She  said  in 
sistently  :  "  You  will  say  nothing  more  about  my  marry- 

202 


BEATRICE    IN    CHAINS 


ing   Peter?      You    leave   me    free   to   marry    whom   I 
please?" 

Richmond  drew  down  his  brows.  Temper  began  to 
tug  at  the  corners  of  his  cruel  mouth.  Really,  this  in 
surgent  child  of  his  was  exceeding  the  outermost  limits  ' 
of  fond,  paternal  forbearance.  "  You've  had  time  to 
think  things  over,"  said  he  in  a  voice  of  restraint. 
"  You're  a  sensible  girl  at  bottom.  And  I  know  you 
have  decided  to  act  sensibly." 

Beatrice  rose.     "  Yes,  I  have,"  said  she. 

"  Then — come  on,"  said  Richmond,  though  he  knew 
perfectly  well  that  was  not  what  she  meant. 

"  You  read  my  note  to  mother?  " 

"  I  pay  no  attention  to  hysteria.  I  waited  for  your 
good  sense  to  get  a  hearing." 

"  I  shall  stay  in  New  York,"  she  said  gently.  "  I 
am  of  age.  I  intend  to  be  free." 

"  What  nonsense !  "  cried  he,  with  an  attempt  at 
good  humor.  "  Where'  11  you  stay?" 

"  Here  for  the  present." 

"  Do  you  think  the  Kinnears  will  harbor  you?  " 

"  I'm  always  welcome  here." 

"  As  my  daughter.  But  just  as  soon  as  they — any 
of  the  people  you  know,  for  that  matter — find  out  that 
I  regard  anyone  who's  receiving  you  as  abetting  you  in 

your  folly  and  disobedience " 

203 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  The  Kinnears  are  my  friends,"  said  Beatrice 
coldly.  "  You  exaggerate  yourself,  papa — or,  rather, 
your  money." 

Richmond  laughed — a  vain,  imperious,  ugly  laugh. 
"  I  can  make  the  old  woman  upstairs  put  you  out  of  the 
house  in  two  minutes — and  Allie  will  be  afraid  to  speak 
to  you." 

Beatrice  gave  a  disdainful  smile. 

"  These  Kinnears — and  about  everyone  you  know — 
have  large  investments  in  the  things  I  control."  And 
his  tone  and  the  twinkle  in  his  eyes  made  the  words  con 
jure  dire  visions  of  possible  catastrophe. 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Beatrice,  paling.  She  looked  at 
him  with  startled  eyes.  "  I  see  ...  I  see."  She  was 
calm  and  self-contained  again.  "  I  must  not  get  my 
friends  into  trouble.  Yes — I'll  leave  at  once.  I'll  go 
to  a  hotel." 

At  this  he  lost  patience.  "  You  force  me  to  be  se 
vere  with  you,"  said  he,  coming  close  to  her  and  shaking 
his  fist  in  her  face.  "  Now  listen,  young  lady.  You 
are  going  home  with  me.  And  you  are  going  to  marry 
Vanderkief  within  six  weeks." 

Beatrice's  expression  was,  in  its  way,  quite  as  un 
pleasant  as  her  father's.  "  You  can't  ruin  me,  father," 
said  she  with  an  ugly  little  laugh.  "  What  you  gave 
me  is  invested  in  Governments." 

204 


BEATRICE    IN    CHAINS 


Richmond  ground  his  teeth.  "  Don't  remind  me  of 
my  infernal  folly.  But  I've  had  a  valuable  lesson.  Not 
another  cent  do  I  give  away  till  I'm  dead." 

"  As  soon  as  I  can  support  myself,"  said  Beatrice, 
"  you'll  get  back  what  you  gave  me." 

"  Support  yourself !  "  Richmond  laughed — with 
real  heartiness.  He  was  surveying  her  standing  there, 
in  a  fashionable  carriage  dress  and  looking  engagingly 
fine  and  useless.  "  What  could  you  do?  " 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  Beatrice,  flushing 
with  mortification. 

"Enough  of  this!"  cried  Richmond.  "You  cer 
tainly  can't  think  me  so  weak  and  meek  that  I'd  let  you 
marry  that  fortune-hunting  painter  chap.  I'll  ex 
plain." 

"  Not  to  me,"  said  Beatrice,  walking  calmly  to  the 
door.  "  Good-by,  father." 

"  If  you  don't  do  as  I  say,"  exclaimed  Richmond, 
"  I'll  ruin  him." 

Beatrice  stopped  short.  She  did  not  turn  round, 
but  from  the  crown  of  her  head  to  the  sweep  of  her  skirt 
her  whole  figure  expressed  attention. 

"  He  has  a  small  competence — left  him  by  an  aunt," 
pursued  Richmond,  tranquil  now.  "  I'll  wipe  it  out. 
I'll  make  him  a  beggar,  and  then  I'll  see  that  he  is  driven 
from  the  country." 

205 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Beatrice  turned  round.  "  You — would  do — that!  " 
she  said  slowly. 

"  Just  that — and  probably  more,"  her  father  as 
sured  her  genially.  "  I  think  I  have  a  little  power — 
despite  the  belief  of  certain  members  of  my  family  to  the 
contrary." 

"  But  he  has  done  nothing !  "  cried  she.  "  I've  told 
you  he  refused  me — again  and  again.  He  has  done 
everything  to  discourage  me.  He  has  wounded  my 
pride.  He  has  trampled  on  my  vanity.  He  has  told  me 
plainly  that  in  no  circumstances  would  he  burden  him 
self  with  me." 

"  Then  why  do  you  persist? "  said  her  father 
shrewdly. 

She  did  not  answer.     Her  head  drooped. 

Richmond  laughed.  "  You  see,  your  story  doesn't 
hold  together.  This  is  Rhoda  and  Broadstairs  over 
again.  They  conspired  together  to  bleed  me  out  of 
more  than  he  had  asked  in  the  first  place.  I  let  them 
do  it.  But  I  ^new  what  they  were  about.  This  is  a  dif 
ferent  case."  White  and  shaking,  he  waved  outstretched 
arms  at  her.  "  You  and  your  vagabond  will  never  get  a 
cent  out  of  me,  living  or  dead.  And  he  knows  it.  I  told 
him." 

"You  saw  him?"  said  Beatrice  eagerly.  "What 
did  he  say?  " 

206 


BEATRICE   IN   CHAINS 


Richmond  grew  fiery  red  at  the  recollection  of  that 
interview,  thus  brought  vividly  back  to  him.  "  No  mat 
ter,"  said  he  roughly.  "  You'll  find  that  he  wants  noth 
ing  more  to  do  with  you.  And  when  I  get  through 
with  him  he'll  be  glad  to  hide  himself  in  some  dark, 
cheap  corner  of  Paris.  He'll  have  to  beg  his  passage 
money." 

"  Father,  I  told  you  the  truth,"  said  the  girl  with 
passionate  earnestness.  "  He  has  never  sought  me.  I 
have  no  hop^  of  marrying  him.  I  persisted — persist — 
because" — she  drew  her  figure  up  proudly — "I  love 
him!" 

"  A  lot  of  pride  you've  got,"  sneered  her  father. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  replied  she.  "  I  love  him  so  much 
that  I'd  not  be  ashamed  for  the  whole  world  to  know  it. 
I'm  not  one  of  those  milk-and-water,  cowardly  women 
who  have  to  wait  till  they're  loved  before  they  begin  to 
give  what  they  call  love.  I  love  him  because  he  is  the 
best  all-round  man  I  ever  saw — becaues  he  is  big  and 
broad  and  simple — because  he's  honest  anfl  sincere — be 
cause  he — because  I  lore  him  !  " 

Richmond  was  silenced.  She  looked  fine  as  she  said 
this — the  sort  of  woman  an  intelligent,  appreciative  man 
is  mighty  proud  to  have  as  a  daughter.  He  was  moved 
so  powerfully  that  he  could  not  altogether  conceal  it. 
But  that  was  an  impulse  from  a  part  of  his  nature 

207 


WHITE   MAGIC 


deeply  sepulchered  and  almost  dead — quite  dead  so  far 
as  influence  upon  action  or  practical  life  was  concerned. 
"  You're  stark  mad,  Beatrice !  "  he  cried.  "  This  has 
got  to  be  cured  at  once.  Come  home  with  me !  " 

"  Father,"  she  pleaded,  "  you  never  denied  me  any 
thing  in  my  life.  And  this  I  want  more  than  all — 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  had  no  hope,"  cried  her 
father,  encouraged  to  see  weakness  in  the  feminine 
pathos  of  her  tones.  "  Now,  drop  this  nonsense !  Come 
with  me  and  marry  Vanderkief  or  I'll  beggar  that  artist 
and  drive  him  out  in  disgrace.  Take  your  choice.  And 
be  quick  about  it.  I'll  not  make  this  offer  again,  and 
I'll  not  stop  the  wheels  once  I  set  them  in  motion.  In 
two  days  I  can  have  him  made  penniless." 

Beatrice  looked  at  her  father;  her  father  looked  at 
her.  She  laughed — a  quiet,  cold  laugh.  "  You  win," 
said  she.  "  I'll  go." 

And  five  minutes  later  she,  having  passively  sub 
mitted  to  Allie's  and  Mrs.  Kinnear's  farewell  embraces, 
descended  to  enter  her  father's  automobile.  Richmond 
took  the  seat  beside  her  with  an  expression  of  mere  tran 
quillity  upon  his  shrewd,  dangerous  face. 

He  had  accomplished  only  what  he  felt  assured  in 
advance  he  would  accomplish.  Whenever  he  played 
trumps  they  won. 


XI 


PETER    VISITS    THE    PRISON 


WE  may  hesitate,  back  and  fill,  creep  forward  with 
trembling  caution,  in  matters  affecting  our  own  affairs. 
But  we  show  no  such  nervousness  when  it  comes  to  in 
terfering  in  the  affairs  of  another.  There  we  are  swift 
and  sure.  We  give  advice  freely ;  we  say  "  ought  " 
in  authoritative  tones;  we  even  enforce  judgment  if  we 
have  the  power.  Why  not?  If  matters  do  not  turn 
out  well  the  fault  will  lie  not  upon  our  advice,  but  upon 
the  blundering  way  our  advice  was  executed.  Besides, 
we  shall  not  be  called  on  to  pay  the  bill ;  destiny  never 
settles  its  accounts  in  consequences  vicariously.  Rich 
mond  had  given  far  less  thought  to  his  daughter's  af 
fairs  than  he  habitually  bestowed  upon  the  small  de 
tails  of  a  small  business  deal.  He  felt  he  did  not  need 
to  think  about  them;  he  knew  what  was  good  for  her. 
Was  he  not  her  father  ? — and  was  it  not  a  father's  duty 
and  privilege  to  know  what  was  best  for  a  daughter? 
So,  the  obstacle  to  the  fulfillment  of  the  destiny  he  had 
ordained  for  her  must  be  swept  away. 

He  was  a  man  who  looked  at  ends,  not  at  means. 
209 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Taking  all  the  circumstances  into  account,  he  was 
rather  inclined  to  believe  that  his  daughter  was  right 
about  Roger  Wade's  not  wishing  to  marry  her ;  that 
for  some  mysterious  reason  the  poor  artist  was  firmly 
set  against  marrying  her — perhaps  was  in  love  with 
some  other  woman,  perhaps  had  a  wife  hidden  away 
somewhere.  But  Roger's  innocence  or  guilt  was  aside 
from  the  point — the  said  point  being  that  his  daughter 
must  marry  Vanderkief  and  so  contribute  her  share 
toward  broad  and  solid  foundations  for  the  family  he 
was  building.  Thus,  guilty  or  innocent,  this  artist 
who  had  had  the  misfortune  to  cross  his  path  must  be 
sacrificed  if  necessary. 

He  felt  neither  pity  nor  hatred  for  Roger  Wade 
as  he  contemplated  the  possibility  of  having  to  ruin 
him.  Richmond  was  as  impersonal  as  are  all  the  large 
forces  of  destiny,  self-appointed  or  impressed — cholera 
germs  or  conquerors,  cyclones  or  captains  of  industry. 
When  he  raised  or  lowered  the  price  of  a  stock  or  of 
a  necessity  of  life,  destroyed  an  industry  or  annexed 
a  railway,  he  looked  on  it  as  a  destiny-ordained  trans 
action;  effects  upon  the  happiness  or  misery  of  un 
known  fellow-beings  did  not  enter  his  head.  The  sui 
cides  that  followed  his  wrecking  and  looting  of  the 
M.  M.  &  G.  made  no  impression  on  him.  If  a  man  of 
action  paused  for  such  refinements  of  sensibility  as  in- 

210 


PETER    VISITS    THE   PRISON 

cidental  evil  effects  from  his  great  designs  there  would 
be  no  action.  If  the  Almighty  were  a  sentimentalist 
how  long  would  chaos  be  postponed?  "The  larger 
good  "  was  Richmond's  motto,  and  those  who  attacked 
his  right  to  set  himself  up  as  judge  in  so  high  and 
difficult  a  matter  were  silenced  by  his  pointing  to  his 
triumphant  success  in  establishing  and  maintaining 
himself  in  destiny's  American  board  of  directors. 

Beatrice,  observing  this  relentlessness  of  his  in  a 
romantic,  impersonal  way,  and  thinking  only  about  his 
exhibition  of  power  and  about  the  glories  of  victory, 
had  often  admired,  had  been  filled  with  pride.  But  now 
that  she  had  personal  illustration  of  the  meaning  of 
that  sonorous  word,  relentless,  she  was  feeling  rather 
differently.  And  hand  in  hand  with  horror  of  her 
father  there  entered  her  heart  a  great  fear  of  him. 
She  had  fancied  herself  free!  She  had  gone  haughtily 
away,  had  stepped  proudly  about,  had  admired  herself 
for  superior  strength  and  courage.  Here  she  was, 
back  at  Red  Hill,  as  much  in  chains  as  her  mother  and 
her  brothers  and  Rhoda,  Countess  of  Broadstairs. 
Through  and  through  she  was  afraid  of  this  man  who 
would  stop  at  nothing — and  whom  nothing  could  stop. 
Bitterly  and  vividly  and  in  self-scorn  she  was  realizing 
the  truth  so  compactly  presented  by  Montaigne  where 
he  reminds  us  that  the  pedestal  is  not  part  of  the  bust. 


WHITE   MAGIC 


But,  although  she  could  not  lie  to  herself  about  her 
fear,  she  resolutely  hid  it.  Her  front  was  calm  and  un 
daunted.  She  accepted  her  check  like  her  father's 
own  daughter — with  neither  whimper  nor  frown.  She 
was  chattering  gayly  all  the  way  down  on  the  train. 
She  greeted  her  mother  as  if  she  had  merely  been  away 
for  a  day's  shopping.  She  was  the  life  of  the  dinner 
table,  played  bridge  afterwards  with  her  old-time  skill 
— and  that  meant  undivided  attention  upon  the  game. 

Her  father  was  puzzled.  Did  this  cheerfulness  in 
dicate  a  plot  to  escape?  Or,  was  Beatrice  secretly 
delighted  at  being  able  to  extricate  herself  from  a  situ 
ation  extremely  distasteful  to  her  sober  sense,  without 
being  forced  to  the  mortification  of  having  to  confess 
her  folly?  Or,  was  it  simply  the  natural  and  incurable 
frivolity  of  womankind?  Richmond  hoped  and  half 
believed  that  the  last  two  guesses  contained  the  truth; 
but  he  did  not  on  that  account  relax  his  vigilance.  It 
was  his  fixed  policy  to  leave  no  point  in  his  line  un 
covered,  and  to  cover  with  the  greatest  care  those 
points  where  danger  seemed  least  likely.  Thenceforth 
Beatrice  should  make  no  move  without  his  knowledge. 
She  was  never  alone  except  when  shut  up  in  her  own 
apartment — and  he  had  the  telephone  there  discon 
nected.  He  was  careful  not  to  make  his  espionage  irri 
tating  ;  it  would  not  definitely  disclose  itself  to  her  un- 


PETEE    VISITS    THE    PRISON 

less  she  tried  to  do  something  out  of  the  ordinary.  So 
far  as  he  could  judge,  she  did  not  realize  that  it 
existed. 

A  few  days  and  Peter  came  down,  to  be  received  by 
her  with  a  friendliness  that  delighted  him,  and  Rich 
mond  no  less. 

Perhaps  had  Peter  been  born  to  make  his  own  way 
in  the  world  he  would  have  developed  a  good  mind  and 
enough  character  to  have  enabled  him  to  acquit  himself 
creditably.  As  it  was,  however,  his  thinking  had  al 
ways  been  hired  out  and  his  character  had  remained  al 
most  rudimentary,  except  that  he  had  been  taught  to 
resist  any  and  all  attempts  to  get  money  out  of  him — 
had  been  taught  in  much  the  same  way  that  Nature 
teaches  the  oyster  to  close  its  shell  when  anything 
disagreeab"  j  tries  to  enter,  teaches  the  worm  to  squirm 
out  of  the  way  when  it  feels  a  touch. 

Unlike  his  mind  and  most  of  the  rest  of  his  char 
acter,  Peter's  vanity  was  far  from  rudimentary.  Those 
born  to  wealth  or  position  get  a  quaintly  ."alse  notion 
of  their  own  intrinsic  importance — just  as  a  prize 
milcher  probably  mistakes  the  reason  for  the  assiduous 
attention  of  which  she  is  the  subject — the  care  with 
which  she  is  washed  and  curried  and  fed,  humored  and 
petted,  ever  spoken  to  caressingly  and  considerately. 
Peter's  vanity  was  as  highly  sensitized  as  the  sole  of 

213 


WHITE   MAGIC 


the  foot.  He  was  constantly  alternating  between 
ecstasy  and  torment,  according  as  he  interpreted  the 
actions  of  those  about  him — for  he  assumed  that  every 
one  was  thinking  of  him  all  the  time,  that  whatever  was 
said  was  a  compliment  for  him  or  an  envious  fling  at 
him.  Otherwise,  one  might  travel  far  and  search  dili 
gently  without  finding  so  amiable,  so  kindly  a  fellow 
as  he.  His  extreme  caution  with  money — except  in 
self-indulgence,  of  course — did  not  produce  any  dis 
agreeable  effect  upon  his  associates ;  they  either  were 
rich,  young  men,  trained  like  himself  to  suspect  every 
one  of  trying  to  "  trim  "  them,  or  were  parasites  upon 
the  rich,  accustomed  to  the  penurious  ways  of  the  rich 
and  rather  admiring  stinginess  as  evidence  of  strength 
of  character.  And  it  certainly  was  evidence  of  admi 
rable  prudence;  for  the  merely  rich  man  shorn  of  his 
riches  is  in  much  the  same  plight  as  a  dog  with  its  tail 
cut  off  close  behind  its  ears. 

When  Peter  and  Beatrice  went  for  a  walk,  Peter 
after  a  while  noted  the  retainer  of  Richmond's  personal 
staff  lingering  with  unobtrusive  persistence  in  the  off 
ing.  "  Why's  that  fellow  skulking  after  us  ? "  in 
quired  he. 

Beatrice  laughed.     "  Oh,  father's  nerves." 
"  About  cranks  and  anarchists  and  socialists — eh  ? 
Well,  I  don't  wonder.     The  lower  classes  are  getting 


PETER    VISITS   THE   PRISON 

damned  impertinent  in  this  country.  I'm  strongly 
tempted  to  go  to  England  to  live.  There's  the  only 
place  on  earth  where  a  gentleman  can  count  on  being 
treated  like  one  all  the  time." 

"  Yes,  it  is  comfortable,"  said  the  girl.  "  Except 
the  climate !  " 

"That  is  rotten — isn't  it?  ...  I  wish  the  fellow 
would  drop  us."  Peter  halted,  frowning  at  the  distant 
figure.  "  I  think  I'll  call  out  to  him." 

"  Oh,  don't  bother,"  said  Beatrice.  "  He's  doing 
no  harm." 

"  But  I  feel  as  if  we  were  being  spied  on." 

"  What  of  it  ? "  cried  she  with  a  radiant  smile. 
"  We're  not  going  to  do  anything  that  anybody 
mightn't  see." 

"  But  I've  got  some  things  to  say  to  you — came 
down  especially  to  say  'em." 

"  Are  they  things  that  have  to  be  shouted?  " 

"  Xo — but — he  makes  me  uneasy — and  there's  you. 
You've  got  a  way  of  looking  and  talking — as  if  you 
weren't  taking  anything  seriously." 

She  was  smiling  as  he  spoke.  But  if  he  had  been 
a  close  observer  he  might  have  seen  an  expression  of  a 
quite  different  character  veiled  by  the  laughter  of  lips 
and  eyes. 

"  I  came  down  to  say  some  pretty  sharp  things  to 
215 


WHITE   MAGIC 


you,"  he  went  on.  "  But,  now  that  I'm  with  you,  I 
don't  seem  able  to  get  them  out.  But  they're  there  all 
the  same,  Beatrice,  and  I'll  act  on  'em  when  I  get  away. 
I'm  sure  I  will." 

"Well?"  said  she.  An  expert  in  woman's  ways 
would  have  gathered  from  the  accent  she  put  into  the 
word  and  from  her  accompanying  manner  that  this 
young  woman  had  decided  the  time  had  come  to  make 
it  easy  for  Hanky  to  unburden  himself. 

"  You're  not  treating  me  right,"  he  burst  out. 
"  You  don't  give  me  the — the  respect  that  everybody 
else  does ;  the — the  consideration  that  I've  been  used 
to." 

"For  instance?" 

Peter  walked  in  silence  beside  her  for  some  distance ; 
these  matters  of  which  his  sense  of  personal  dignity 
was  compelling  him  to  complain  were  difficult  to  put 
into  words  that  would  not  sound  priggish  and  con 
ceited.  Finally,  he  made  a  beginning :  "  Of  course, 
you're  a  splendid  girl — the  best  I  know — and  that's 
the  reason  I  want  you.  There  isn't  anybody  else  who 
combines  all  the  advantages  as  you  do.  But — honestly, 
Beatrice,  isn't  the  same  thing  true  of  me?" 

He  looked  at  her,  with  his  mind  and  his  face  ready 
to  resent  evidences  of  her  familiar  mockery.  But  she 
was  gazing  ahead,  eyes  serious  and  sweet  mouth  free 

216 


PETER    VISITS    THE    PRISON 

from  any  hint  of  a  smile.  "  Go  on,  Hanky,"  said  she 
encouragingly. 

Peter  felt  that  at  last  he  was  coming  into  his  own. 
With  a  great  deal  more  confidence  he  proceeded :  "  You 
make  me  feel  as  if — as  if  I  were  cheapening  myself — • 
hanging  after  you  this  way,  taking  things  off  you  I 
wouldn't  take  off  anybody  else  on  earth." 

"For  instance?" 

"  Why,  this  engagement.  There's  hardly  a  girl  in 
New  York — in  our  set — who  wouldn't  jump  at  the 
chance.  That  isn't  conceit.  It's  fact." 

"  It's  both,  Hanky,"  conceded  the  girl,  without  re 
serve.  She  looked  at  him,  asked  gravely :  "  Do  you 
really  want  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"Haven't  I  told  you?  " 

"When  I  don't  love  you?  " 

"  I've  been  thinking  about  that,"  said  Peter,  with  a 
notable  air  of  experienced  man  of  the  world.  "  And  it 
seems  to  me  you're  only  showing  what  a  fine  girl  you 
are.  I'd  be  inclined  to  shy  off  from  a  girl  who  loved 
me  before  we  were  married.  I  like  delicacy — and — 
and  reserve — and  purity — in  a — a  lady.  By  Jove,  it 
seems  to  me  there's  something  kind  of — of  brazen  and 
forward  in  a  girl's  giving  way  to  her  feelings — when 
— when — she's  not  supposed  to  know  about  that  kind 
of  thing.  It's — it's — well,  it  smacks  of  the  lower 
15 


WHITE   MAGIC 


classes.  They  go  in  for  that  sort  of  thing — they  and 
the  sort  of  women  one  doesn't  talk  about." 

A  long  silence  followed  this  outburst  of  upper-class 
philosophy.  Peter  was  revolving  what  he  had  said, 
with  increasing  admiration  for  his  own  acumen.  As 
for  Beatrice,  after  a  fleeting  smile  of  derision  which 
he  did  not  see,  she  resumed  her  own  distinct  line  of 
thought.  She  looked  at  him  several  times — a  scruti 
nizing  look — a  look  of  appeal — a  look  of  doubt.  Fi 
nally  she  said  with  some  effort :  "  Peter — suppose  I 
told  you  I  loved  another  man  ?  " 

He  shook  his  head  incredulously.  "  You  wouldn't 
love  any  man  till  you  had  the  right  to.  Besides,  where 
is  there  another  man  who's  so  exactly  what  you  want 
in  every  way?  You  know  we're  exactly  suited  to  each 
other,  Beatrice.  It's — it's  like  predestination.  You'd 
hate  to  give  me  up  as  much  as  I'd  hate  to  give  you  up." 

Centered  though  her  mind  was  on  whether  she  could 
venture  to  make  a  confidant  of  him,  she  began  to  won 
der  at  him.  True,  she  had  permitted  him  to  speak 
frankly.  True,  their  intimate  acquaintance  from  child 
hood  made  him  feel  free  to  exhibit  his  innermost  self 
without  any  especial  nervousness  or  reserve.  But 
there  still  remained  something  unaccounted  for.  Where 
had  he  got  the  courage  to  face  her  thus  aggressively? 
How  came  he  to  be  infatuated  with  himself  so  far  be- 

218 


PETER    VISITS   THE   PRISON 

yond  the  loftiest  soarings  of  his  most  self-satisfied 
mood  theretofore?  It  was  not  long  before  her  feminine 
shrewdness  pointed  her  to  the  cause.  "  Some  woman's 
been  at  him — been  trying  to  get  him  away  from  me." 
In  ordinary  circumstances  this  would  have  pleased  her 
no  better  than  it  would  please  the  next  woman.  But 
just  then  she  sincerely  hoped  her  underminer  had  been 
successful. 

"  Peter,"  said  she  thoughtfully,  "  have  you  been 
considering  giving  me  up  ?  " 

Peter  looked  flustered.  But  he  did  not  hem  and 
haw ;  he  came  straight  back  at  her.  "  I  haven't  liked 
the  way  you've  kept  me  on  the  string,"  confessed  he. 

"  Is  there  some  other  girl?  "  inquired  she  eagerly. 

"  I've  seen  quite  a  lot  of  Allie  lately,"  admitted 
Peter,  and  his  manner  let  her  know  that  he  had  been 
giving  a  large  amount  of  thought  to  the  advantages  of 
making  her  jealous.  "  And  I'm  sure  if  I'd  been  to  Allie 
what  I've  been  to  you  she'd  not  treat  me  as  you  have." 

Allie !  Then  it  was  all  right.  "  Dear  Allie  "  had 
been  working  in  the  interests  of  her  friend.  Beatrice 
sent  a  loving  thought  to  her. 

"  And  you  must  admit  Allie  has  a  lot  of  good 
points,"  pursued  Peter,  calculating  that  his  judicial 
manner  would  set  the  jealous  flame  to  spreading  and 
mounting. 

219 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  She's  much  nearer  your  ideal  of  what  a  girl 
should  be  than  I  am,"  said  Beatrice  with  discouraging 
enthusiasm.  "  She's  fond  of  the  same  kind  of  life  that 
you  are.  Peter — why  don't  you  love  her  ?  " 

Peter  stared  gloomily  at  the  ground,  then  fell  to 
switching  off  leaves  with  his  stick.  Was  Beatrice  jeal 
ous  and  taking  this  method  of  hiding  it?  Or  was  she 
really  indifferent  to  the  danger  of  losing  one  of  the 
few  first-class  catches  in  America?  The  fear  that  the 
latter  might  be  the  case  made  him  so  miserable  that  he 
could  not  keep  up  the  pretense  about  Allie. 

Beatrice,  desperate,  hesitated  no  longer.  "  But 
first,  Hanky,  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  favor.  I  want  you 
to  pretend  that  we  are  to  be  married  and  that  it's  to 
be  in — say — in  three  months.  Allie  will  understand. 
Ill  explain  it  all  to  her." 

Peter  began  to  bristle.  "  Pretend  to  whom  ?  "  said 
he  sourly. 

"  To  father.  And  you  must  say  you  simply  can't 
marry  for  three  months.  I  must  have  time  to —  No 
matter.  I  hope — in  fact  I'm  sure  that  I'll  be  able  to  let 
you  off  in  a  month." 

"  And  have  everybody  say  you  chucked  me?  I  like 
that— I  do!" 

"  You  know,  Hanky,  no  one  would  believe  for  a 
minute  that  any  girl  would  chuck  you" 

220 


PETER    VISITS   THE   PRISON 

"  But — but  you'd  be  doing  it,  just  the  same,"  he 
exploded.  "  And — I  want  to  marry  you." 

"  Now,  Peter,  you  know  perfectly  well  you  like 
Allie  better." 

"  Yes,  I  do  like  her  better.  Sometimes  I  don't  like 
you  at  all.  But  I  always  love  you." 

"  Habit — simply  habit,"  Beatrice  assured  him 
airily.  "  You'll  do  it,  won't  you?  " 

"  No !  "  cried  Peter,  stopping  short.  "  No,  I'll  not 
do  it.  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  marry  you.  And  I  will." 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  of  yourself,  Hanky  Vander- 
kief  ?  "  cried  Beatrice.  "  Why,  I  always  thought  you 
were  a  gentleman." 

"  Oh,  when  we're  married  you'll  be  all  right — 
mighty  glad  you  did.  A  girl  doesn't  know  her  own 
mind." 

"  Shame  on  you !  Trying  to  take  advantage  of  the 
fact  that  my  father's  got  me  in  his  power." 

This  admission  delighted  Peter.  "  He's  set  on  your 
marrying  me  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  That's  why  I  want  you  to  help  me." 

"  Then  that  settles  it ! "  exclaimed  Peter  trium 
phantly.  "  We'll  be  married." 

"  You — side  with  him — against  me!  "  Beatrice's 
scorn  was  superb.  "  Oh,  I  wish  I  could  marry  you — 
just  to  punish  you  for  that ! " 

221 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Peter  looked  uncomfortable  but  dogged.  "  I'd  not 
dare  offend  your  father,  anyhow.  It'd  cost  me  a  pot 
of  money.  He's  got  me  up  to  my  eyes  in  a  lot  of  his 
deals.  And  if  he  turned  against  me — gad,  I'd  look  like 
a  sheep  just  after  shearing.  Beatrice,  don't  you  see 
it?  There's  no  escape  for  us.  We  ought  to  marry. 
We  want  to  marry.  We've  got  to  marry." 

Beatrice's  answer  was  a  glance  of  contempt.  "  I 
understand  now,"  said  she  bitterly.  "  You'd  marry 
Allie  Kinnear,  if  you  dared.  But  you  don't  dare  be 
cause  you're  afraid  it'd  cost  you  a  little  money." 

"  A  little ! "  cried  Peter.  "  About  a  third  of  all 
I've  got." 

"  And  you've  got  about  five  times  as  much  as  you 
could  possibly  spend.  Oh,  I  had  no  idea  you  were  so 
contemptible.  You'd  marry  me  against  my  wiU — 
against  your  own  heart — for  fear  and  for  money." 

"I  say,  now!"  protested  Vanderkief.  "That 
ain't  fair,  Beatrice." 

"  Will  you  help  me?  "  demanded  she. 

"  I  can't — and  I  won't,"  replied  he  unhesitatingly. 
"  And,  furthermore,  I'm  going  to  put  it  up  to  you  and 
your  father  that  if  you  don't  marry  me  next  month 
I'll  not  marry  you  at  all."  And  Peter  drew  himself  to 
his  full  height  and  swelled  himself  to  his  excellent  full 
figure  and  looked  fiercely  resolved. 


PETER    VISITS   THE   PRISON 

Beatrice  stood  motionless,  her  gaze  fixed  upon  a 
worn  place  in  the  grass  just  across  the  lake  and  not 
far  from  the  cascade. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Beatrice?"  he  asked  rather 
uneasily. 

"You  meant  that?" 

He  nodded  emphatically.     "  I  did.     I  do." 

"  You'd  speak  to  father?  " 

His  eyes  shifted.     "  If  you  compelled  me  to." 

"  Look  at  me,  Peter." 

With  considerable  difficulty  he  forced  his  eyes  to 
meet  hers.  All  the  latent  selfishness  and  pettiness  in 
his  nature  seemed  to  her  to  be  flaunting  from  them. 
"  I'm  doing  what's  best  for  you,"  said  he  sullenly. 

She  gave  that  short,  nasty  Dan  Richmond  laugh 
of  hers — and  his  own  face  certainly  did  not  suggest 
the  sunny  and  generous  side  of  his  character.  "  Very 
well,  dear  Peter,"  said  she.  "  We're  engaged." 

"  And  the  marriage  is  next  month,  remember,"  he 
insisted.  "  We  want  to  get  to  London  before  the  end 
of  the  season." 

"  The  thirty-first  of  next  month."  She  was  stiU 
looking  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  sardonic — one  might 
say,  satanic — mirth.  "  Poor  Peter !  "  she  said. 

"  I  can  take  care  of  myself,"  retorted  he  jauntily. 
"  And  of  you,  too.  Your  father  understands  you. 


WHITE   MAGIC 


He'll  see  to  it  that  you  don't  have  the  chance  to  make 
a  fool  of  yourself  and  spoil  your  life  after  you're 
married." 

Beatrice  burst  into  a  laugh  full  of  pure  mirth. 
"  You  are  a  joke!  "  she  cried.  "  Poor  Peter!  " 

"  Let's  go  back  to  the  house,"  said  he  angrily. 

"  Yes— to  tell  the  glad  news." 

"  Now,  don't  put  on  with  me,  Beatrice.  Do  you 
think  I  haven't  got  good  sense?  I  know  that  in  reality 
you  are  delighted.  You  seem  to  have  a  prejudice 
against  doing  anything  in  the  ordinary  way.  You 
want  to  make  me  feel  in  the  wrong — to  get  an  advan 
tage  over  me  from  the  start.  But  I'm  on  to  you.  So 
— come  along !  " 

Beatrice  laughed  again.  And  again  she  said, 
"Poor  Peter!" 


XII 

UNDER    COVER    OF    NIGHT 

BACK  at  the  house  Beatrice  and  Peter  went  into  the 
east  drawing-room,  where  Mrs.  Richmond  was  giving 
tea  to  her  half  dozen  guests.  As  they  entered  from  the 
hall  Richmond  appeared  in  the  opposite  doorway  of 
the  billiard  room.  He  swept  Peter's  face  with  one  of 
his  keen  glances.  As  soon  as  the  agitations  and  read 
justments  incident  to  new  arrivals  were  over,  he  took 
his  daughter  aside. 

"Been  quarreling  with  Peter?"  said  he. 

She  turned  her  head,  called  out :  "  Hanky — just  a 
minute.  You'll  excuse  him,  Mrs.  Martini?"  And 
when  Peter,  red  and  ill  at  ease,  was  with  them  in  the 
deep  window,  she  said :  "  Tell  him." 

"  Your  daughter  has — has  consented,"  said  Peter. 

Richmond  beamed  and  wrung  his  hand. 

"  And  as  we  want  to  get  to  London  for  the  end  of 
the  season,"  continued  Peter,  "  we'd  like  to  be  married 
the  last  of  next  month." 

"  No  objection — none  whatever,"  said  Richmond. 
225 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I'm  not  sure,"  said  Beatrice,  all  this  time  inscru 
tably  calm.  "  I'll  have  to  talk  with  mother  first.  It's 
not  easy  to  get  together  the  clothes  in  such  a  little 
time." 

"  Nonsense,"  cried  Richmond.  "  There's  the 
cable." 

"  And  you'll  want  most  of  the  things  sent  to  you 
in  London,"  suggested  Peter. 

Beatrice  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "  Just  as  mam 
ma  says."  And  she  strolled  over  to  the  tea  table  and 
cut  herself  a  slice  of  layer  cake,  which  she  proceeded 
to  eat  with  much  deliberation  and  enjoyment. 

The  two  men  stood  together  observing  her.  Up 
came  Mrs.  Martini,  slim  and  willowy  and  dressed  in  the 
extreme  of  the  skin-tight  fashions  of  that  year. 
"What  are  you  two  looking  so  gloomy  about?"  in 
quired  she. 

Richmond  scowled.  "Gloomy?"  said  he,  with  a 
disagreeable  laugh.  "  We  feel  anything  but  gloomy. 
That  is — er — of  course  my  feelings  are  somewhat  con 
fused.  I've  just  learned  that  Peter's  going  to  take 
Beatrice  away  from  me  the  end  of  next  month." 

Peter's  smile  in  response  to  Mrs.  Martini's  effusive 
congratulations  was  sickly,  was  with  difficulty  kept 
alive  long  enough  to  meet  the  requirements  of  conven 
tionality. 


UNDER    COVER    OF   NIGHT 

Beatrice  had  not  shown  the  faintest  sign  that  she 
was  conscious  of  imprisonment.  So  far  as  Richmond 
observed,  not  once  had  she  made  any  attempt  to  break 
through  or  even  to  explore  the  limits  assigned  her. 
Had  it  not  been  for  the  discontent  plain  to  see  upon 
Peter's  florid,  vigorously  healthy  countenance  through 
out  the  four  days  he  lingered  at  Red  Hill,  Richmond 
would  have  assumed  that  his  daughter  had  regained 
her  reason  as  he  had  felt  confident  she  would.  Beatrice 
did  make  an  effort  in  public  to  treat  Peter  as  her  fiance ; 
but  she  had  to  give  it  up.  Her  nerves  refused  to  assist 
her  in  her  game  of  hypocrisy  beyond  a  certain  point 
— and  Peter  had  become  physically  repulsive  to  her. 
She  did  not  regard  this  defect  in  her  otherwise  perfect 
pose  as  serious.  She  knew  that  her  father  was  not 
one  to  relax  vigilance  because  he  had  won.  So,  what 
advantage  would  there  be  in  striving,  and  probably  fail 
ing,  to  remove  his  last  suspicion  ? 

Without  betraying  herself  she  had  thoroughly  ex 
amined  all  the  metes  stnd  bounds  of  her  prison.  She 
found  it  everywhere  worthy  of  her  father's  minute  in 
genuity.  By  means  of  his  pretext  of  alarm  about 
cranks  and  kidnapers  she  was  being  thoroughly  spied 
upon  without  the  spies  suspecting  what  they  were 
really  about.  By  day  there  were  the  personal  guards, 
to  inform  him  if  she  tried  to  communicate  with  Roger 

227 


WHITE   MAGIC 


either  personally  or  by  message.  By  night  there  were 
the  watchman  within  and  the  three  patrolmen  without, 
and  a  system  of  burglar  alarms  that  made  it  impossible 
for  anyone  either  to  leave  or  to  enter  without  flooding 
the  whole  house  with  light  and  starting  up  a  clamor  of 
bells  from  attics  to  cellars. 

Apparently  she  was  as  free  as  air — free  to  roam 
anywhere  in  the  vast  wilderness  surrounding  the  gar 
dens  and  terraces  and  lawns  from  the  midst  of  which 
the  big  chateau  rose.  Really,  she  could  not  move  a 
step  in  secret — and  to  give  Roger  the  warning  she 
must  see  him  face  to  face  without  her  father's  knowl 
edge.  For,  if  her  father  purposed  to  keep  faith  with 
her,  it  would  be  folly  to  give  him  reason  to  feel  he 
would  do  well  to  ruin  Roger  anyhow ;  and,  if  he  did  not 
purpose  to  keep  the  agreement  under  which  she  had 
returned  and  had  accepted  Peter,  it  would  be  madness 
to  provoke  him  to  attack  Roger  immediately.  She 
must  see  Roger  secretly. 

But  how? 

If  chance  there  was,  that  chance  must  be  under 
cover  of  night — night,  when  she  was  at  least  free  from 
the  espionage  of  human  eyes.  How  could  she  get  out 
of  the  house  undetected  and  get  back  into  it  unsus 
pected?  And  if  she  could  accomplish  this  well-nigh 
impossible  feat,  how  arrange  to  meet  Roger — when  she 

228 


UNDER    COVER    OF   NIGHT 


could   not    communicate   with   him,   when    she   did   not 
even  know  where  he  lived? 

Every  system  of  human  devising  has  its  weak 
point.  By  observing  and  thinking  Beatrice  discovered 
the  weak  point  in  this  system  of  her  father's.  As  soon 
as  she  formed  her  plan  she  got  ready  this  note : 

Chang: 

It  is  absolutely  necessary  that  I  see  you  for  a  few 
minutes.  My  only  chance  is  at  night.  So,  come  down 
to  the  cascade  at  one  o'clock  the  morning  after  you  get 
this.  Don't  fail  me.  Don't  think  me  hysterical  or  sen 
timental.  I  might  almost  say  this  is  a  matter  of  life 
and  death. 

Rix. 

The  burglar  alarms  were  switched  on  every  night 
by  Conrad  Pinney,  the  superintendent,  just  after  the 
house  was  closed.  They  were  switched  off  at  five  in 
the  morning  by  Tom,  the  indoors  watchman,  when  the 
lowest  rank  of  menials  in  the  service  of  the  establish 
ment  descended  from  their  little  rooms  under  the  eaves 
j  of  the  west  wing  to  make  ready  the  first-floor  rooms 
for  the  day.  The  house  was  closed  as  soon  as  the  last 
member  of  the  family  went  up  to  his  or  her  rooms. 
To  escape,  she  must  choose  the  moment  or  so  between 
the  ascending  of  the  last  member  of  the  family  and  the 
switching  on  of  the  alarms — and  it  must  be  on  a  night 

229 


WHITE   MAGIC 


when  some  one  member  of  the  family  stayed  down  long 
enough  after  the  going  of  the  rest  to  make  it  certain 
there  would  be  no  accidental  glancing  into  her  rooms 
to  see  that  all  was  well.  To  get  back  into  the  house 
she  must  wait  until  it  was  opened  at  five  o'clock  and 
slip  in  unseen  by  the  menial  sweepers  and  cleaners  and 
polishers. 

On  Tuesdays  and  Thursdays  her  father  brought 
from  town  a  bundle  of  papers  which  he  usually  sat  up 
with  until  midnight  or  even  one  o'clock.  Then  he  and 
Pinney  often  walked  up  and  down  the  terrace  before 
the  main  entrance  and  smoked  for  twenty  minutes. 
Peter  went  away  on  a  Monday.  On  Tuesday  night  there 
were  no  guests.  At  dinner  were  only  the  family — her 
mother,  her  father  and  herself,  her  mother's  secretary, 
Miss  Gleets,  Mrs.  Lambert,  the  housekeeper,  and  Pin 
ney.  As  they  sat  at  table  Beatrice  revolved  her  proj 
ect,  decided  she  would  risk  a  slight  change  in  it  that 
would  spare  her  a  night  outdoors  and  the  danger  of 
being  seen  as  she  entered  in  the  early  morning.  After 
dinner  she  and  her  mother  and  the  housekeeper  and 
Pinney  played  bridge  until  half  past  ten.  By  eleven 
o'clock  everyone  was  gone  from  downstairs  but  her 
father,  Pinney,  and  two  servants.  In  her  room  in 
the  dark  she  waited  until  half  past  eleven,  then  changed 
to  outing  dress,  descended  and  slipped  into  the  gray 

230 


UNDER    COVER    OF   NIGHT 

salon.  Its  windows  had  been  locked  for  the  night. 
She  unlocked  one,  opened  it,  went  out  upon  the  broad, 
stone  veranda,  closed  the  window  behind  her.  The  sky 
was  fortunately  overcast,  or  she  would  have  been  in 
full  view,  as  the  moon  was  on  that  side  of  the  house. 

She  crept  along  in  the  shadow  of  wall  and  shrub 
bery  until  she  was  in  the  woods.  There  she  struck  into 
a  path  and  fled  down  the  hill  toward  the  boathouse. 
When  she  was  about  half  way  she  remembered  the  out 
side  watchmen — remembered  that  the  boathouse  was 
one  of  their  stations.  It  would  be  folly  to  risk  run 
ning  into  them;  she  must  make  the  trip  to  the  studio 
on  foot  by  rounding  the  end  of  the  lake — full  five  miles 
instead  of  less  than  three.  At  the  shortest  she  would 
be  gone,  not  about  two  hours,  but  more  than  three.  So, 
it  was  useless  to  think  of  getting  in  before  her  father 
went  to  bed  and  the  alarms  were  switched  on.  Instead 
of  hurry  there  was  time  to  waste — all  the  time  before 
five  in  the  morning.  She  strolled  along,  taking  the 
longest  way  and  keeping  entirely  clear  of  the  watch 
men's  routes  among  the  several  groups  of  widely  sep 
arated  outbuildings — the  stables  and  garage,  the 
water,  lighting  and  laundry  plants,  the  kennels,  the 
hothouses,  the  farm  and  dairy  buildings. 

A  fine,  soft  rain  fell,  but  it  did  not  trouble  her  as 
the  foliage  was  now — early  May — so  thick  that  it  was 

231 


WHITE   MAGIC 


almost  a  roof.  When  she  came  out  of  the  woods  near 
the  studio  the  rain  had  ceased  and  the  moon,  never  so 
thickly  veiled  that  it  did  not  give  her  light,  sailed  in 
a  clear  path  among  the  separating  clouds.  She  looked 
at  the  watch  on  her  wrist ;  it  was  nearly  one  o'clock. 
"  I  came  too  quickly,"  she  said.  "  I  must  do  better 
going  back." 

She  found  the  studio  door  open,  as  she  expected; 
there  were  no  tramps  in  that  region,  and  Red  Hill  was 
guarded  only  because  New  York  thieves  might  plan  an 
expedition  expressly  to  plunder  it.  She  dropped  the 
hasp  from  the  staple,  pushed  the  big  door  open. 

The  room  within  was  in  the  full  pour  of  the  moon 
now  straight  above  the  huge  skylight.  She  looked 
round,  her  heart  beating  wildly — not  with  fear,  not 
with  expectation,  but  with  memory.  From  that  bench 
there  she  had  first  seen  him.  There  she  had  watched 
him  making  chocolate.  There  they  had  sat  drinking  it, 
she  admiring  the  swift,  vivid  play  of  emotion  upon  his 
handsome  face — and  what  interesting  emotion ! — so  free 
— so  simple — so  strong — so  genuine!  She  went  to  the 
bench,  seated  herself,  stretched  herself  at  full  length — 
and  sobbed.  "  Oh,  if  you  only  knew  !  "  she  cried.  "  I'm 
so  different  now !  I've  learned  so  much — and  I  love  you 
— love  you,  Chang !  "  It  thrilled  and  comforted  her  to 
speak  out  her  heart  without  reserve  in  that  place. 


UNDER    COVER    OF  NIGHT 

She  searched  the  room  for  some  memento  of  him. 
In  one  of  the  wide  chinks  in  the  masonry  of  the  chimney 
she  found  a  pipe — an  old,  evil-smelling  thing,  its 
mouthpiece  almost  bitten  through.  She  laughed  and 
cried  over  it,  touching  it  caressingly,  making  a  face  at 
its  really  fearful  odor,  but  loving  it  none  the  less.  She 
tore  up  an  old  newspaper,  wrapped  the  pipe  carefully 
to  shut  in  that  odor  if  possible. 

She  sat  on  one  of  the  rough,  uncomfortable  chairs 
and  proceeded  to  live  over  every  moment  of  her  ac 
quaintance  with  him — to  recall  all  he  had  said  and  done 
and  looked,  all  his  little  peculiarities  of  gesture  and  ac 
cent  ;  to  analyze  his  fascination  for  her — why  she  loved 
him — the  thousand  and  one  reasons  in  addition  to  the 
real  reason — which,  of  course,  was  that  he  was  Chang, 
the  biggest  and  straightest  and  honestest  man  she  had 
ever  known,  not  even  self-conscious  enough  to  be  mod 
est.  The  moon  crossed  the  skylight ;  the  room  faded 
into  half  darkness ;  the  moon  reappeared  at  the  west 
window,  high  up  in  the  wall.  She  dreamed  on  and  on 
— the  dreams  with  which  she  filled  most  of  her  waking 
moments  when  she  was  alone.  When  she  remembered 
to  look  at  her  watch  it  was  five  minutes  after  three ! 

She  sprang  up,  took  the  note  from  her  bosom, 
thrust  it  three  quarters  through  the  crack  between  the 
closet  door  and  its  frame,  just  above  the  lock.  Would 
16  233 


WHITE   MAGIC 


he  get  it  that  morning?  Or,  would  it  be  several  days 
before  he  came  there  ?  "  I'll  go  to  the  cascade  two 
nights,"  said  she.  "  Then,  if  he  doesn't  come,  I'll  try 
some  other  way." 

When  she  reached  the  top  of  Red  Hill  it  was  day, 
though  the  sun  was  not  yet  above  the  horizon.  She 
circled  round  until  she  was  opposite  the  main  entrance, 
but  well  concealed.  She  had  come  down  early  so  often 
that  she  knew  the  routine  through  which  the  servants 
would  go.  Just  as  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  lit  upon  the 
topmost  of  the  pointed  roofs,  Tom,  the  indoors  watch 
man,  appeared  in  the  main  entrance.  The  alarms  were 
off.  She  circled  back  to  the  west  and,  by  way  of  the 
dense  shrubbery  that  would  hide  her  from  any  chance 
gazer  from  windows,  she  gained  the  veranda — the  un 
locked  window  of  the  gray  salon.  Her  heart  stood  still 
while  she  was  raising  that  window.  When  no  sound  of 
bells  banging  and  clanging  came  she  drew  a  long 
breath,  stepped  weakly  through,  lowered  and  locked  the 
window.  The  rest  of  the  journey  was  comparatively 
free  from  danger. 

When  her  maid  came  in  at  nine  o'clock  she  was 
sleeping  soundly;  and  all  traces  of  her  expedition  had 
been  removed  by  her  own  unaccustomed  hands  from 
skirt  and  leggings  and  shoes.  The  old  pipe-  in  its  news 
paper  wrappings  was  hidden  deep  in  a  drawer  of  lin- 


UNDER    COVER   OF   NIGHT 

gerie  odorous  of  delicate  sachet — a  drawer  of  which  she 
had  the  only  key. 

Getting  away  from  the  house  the  next  night  was  not 
so  easy. 

Several  guests  came  from  town  in  the  afternoon. 
She  was  obliged  to  stay  down  until  the  last,  had  difficul 
ty  in  preventing  Josephine  Burroughs  from  following 
her  into  her  room  to  chatter  for  an  hour  or  longer.  All 
evening,  as  her  father  lingered  in  the  drawing-room, 
she  had  forced  herself  to  act  in  her  gayest,  most  uncon 
cerned  manner.  Her  nerves  were  on  edge  and  she  had 
a  fever.  She  knew  the  servants  were  closing  the  house 
in  mad  haste.  There  was  no  time  to  change  dress  or 
even  shoes;  there  was  just  time  to  send  her  maid  away, 
to  catch  up  a  long  wrap,  turn  out  her  lights  and  dart 
downstairs.  Probably  no  one  was  yet  in  bed,  but  she 
must  take  the  chance  of  some  accidental  late  call  upon 
her.  As  she  raised  the  window  in  the  gray  salon  she 
confidently  expected  to  hear  the  bells,  to  be  dazzled  by 
sudden  flash  of  lights.  She  did  not  breathe  until  she 
had  it  lowered. 

It  was  after  midnight.  She  congratulated  herself 
on  having  fixed  one  o'clock  as  the  hour  for  the  meeting. 
She  would  have  just  time  to  reach  the  little  cataract. 
She  had  not  gone  far  before  her  slippers  were  in  a 

235 


WHITE   MAGIC 


dreadful  state  and  her  legs  wet  to  the  knees.  "  The  ex 
citement's  the  only  thing  that  can  save  me  from  the  cold 
of  my  life,"  thought  she.  Colds  were  serious  matters 
with  her — disfiguring,  desperately  uncomfortable,  slow 
to  take  leave.  Long  before  she  reached  the  lower  end  of 
the  lake  she  could  feel  that  her  dress  was  a  bedraggled 
wreck,  high  though  she  had  held  it.  As  she  went  along 
the  rough  shore  path  she  glanced  from  time  to  time  at 
the  meeting  place  on  the  opposite  side.  The  moon  made 
everything  distinct;  he  was  not  there.  Had  it  taken 
her  longer  to  come  than  she  thought,  and  had  he  gone? 
Or  had  he  disregarded  her  note?  Or  had  he  not  yet 
got  it  ?  "  I  don't  believe  I'll  dare  come  again,"  she  said 
to  herself  despondently.  But  she  knew  that  she  would. 

She  crossed  the  brook  on  the  stones  that  fretted  it. 
She  reached  the  place  where  she  could  see  the  grass 
worn  by  his  working  at  his  easel,  the  mud  of  the  lake's 
brim  creased  by  the  keel  of  her  canoe.  She  looked  all 
round,  straining  her  eyes  into  the  dimness  under  the 
trees. 

"Chang!"  she  called. 

She  gazed,  listened,  waited.  "  Chang !  "  she  called 
again,  a  sob  in  her  voice. 

From  the  deep  shadow  of  the  maple  tree  immediately 
in  front  of  her  came  Roger's  voice :  "  Some  one  is  com 
ing  toward  us  in  a  boat." 

236 


UXDER    COVER    OF    NIGHT 

"  Don't  move ! "  she  exclaimed  in  an  undertone. 
"  No  matter  what  happens,  don't  show  yourself.  I 
must  speak  quickly,"  she  hurried  on.  "  That  money 
you  said  you  had — you  must  sell  out  whatever  it's  in 
vested  in  and  put  it  in  Government  bonds — right  away. 
Will  you?  Promise  me!" 

"  I  can't,"  replied  he.  "  It's  in  bonds  of  the  Wau- 
chong  Railroad,  that's  just  gone  into  the  hands  of  a  re 
ceiver." 

Beatrice  gasped.  "  Oh !  "  she  cried.  But  she  must 
not  delay.  "  My  father  did  it,"  she  hurried  on,  "  be 
cause  he  wants  to  ruin  you  and  drive  you  out  of  the 
country." 

Roger  laughed  quietly.  "  Don't  worry,  Rix.  I'm 
all  right." 

"  I've  got  so  much  to  say.  I  must  see  you 
again ': 

"  No.  This  is  good-by.  I  read  about  your  engage 
ment,  and  I  was  glad  you  had  made  up  your  mind  to  do 
the  sensible  thing.  I  hope  you'll  be  happy — and  you 
will  be.  I'll  send  you  the  picture  as  a  wedding  present." 

"  Chang — don't  believe  that,"  cried  she  imploringly. 
"  I  must  see  you.  As  soon  as  I  can  I'll  let  you  know. 
I'm  watched.  But  I'll  give  them  the  slip  and— 

"  You'll  do  nothing  stealthy — not  with  my  help," 

answered  he.     "  I'll  not  come  again " 

287 


WHITE   MAGIC 


The  clash  of  oar  in  lock  struck  both  silent.  A  row- 
boat  glided  from  the  shadows,  thrust  its  nose  far  up  the 
muddy  shore.  Beatrice  immediately  recognized  her 
father  the  only  occupant.  He  stood  up,  looking  round. 
He  said  in  a  voice  of  suspiciously  pleasant  intonation, 
"  I  see  Wade  hasn't  come  yet.  Well,  I'll  wait  and  take 
you  back.  The  walking's  bad — especially  in  that  kind 
of  dress." 

Each  could  see  the  other's  face  plainly  in  that  bright 
moonlight.  She  showed  no  more  sign  of  agitation  than 
he,  and  he  was  suave.  Beatrice  spoke.  "  Yes,  I've 
ruined  my  dress.  And  the  slippers— they're  pulp." 
She  glanced  round.  "  What  time  is  it  ?  " 

"  Half  past  one,"  he  announced,  as  the  result  of  a 
look  at  his  watch. 

"  It's  later  than  I  thought.  I'm  ready  to  go  home 
now." 

"  I've  plenty  of  time,"  protested  Richmond. 

"  No.     Let's  go.     There's  nothing  to  stay  for." 

And  she  stepped  into  the  boat,  steadying  herself 
with  a  hand  on  his  shoulder  as  she  passed  him  on  her 
way  to  sit  in  the  stern.  It  had  been  almost  necessary 
that  she  steady  herself  somehow  in  passing  him  in  that 
rather  narrow  rowboat.  She  was  hardly  conscious  that 
she  had  touched  him ;  he  was  touching  her  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  also  his  own  guiding  and  steadying  hand 

238 


UNDER    COFER    OF   NIGHT 

was  on  her  arm.  Yet  the  incident,  apparently  trifling, 
was  in  fact  most  significant  in  itself  and  fraught  with 
highly  important  consequences.  In  the  first  place  it 
showed  that,  though  father  and  daughter  fancied  they 
were  hating  each  other  to  the  uttermost,  they  in  reality 
were  still  father  and  daughter,  with  at  least  one  strong, 
uncleft  bond  of  sympathy  through  the  recognition  by 
each  in  the  other  of  qualities  both  intensely  admired — 
for  two  people  who  deeply  hate  do  not  touch  each  other 
except  in  anger.  Also,  it  altered  their  immediate  rela 
tionship ;  it  softened  the  animosities  that  were  raging 
for  utterance  in  each,  and  made  it  impossible  for  the 
quarrel  that  was  bound  to  come  to  be  of  exactly  the  same 
complexion — of  the  same  peculiar  character  it  would 
have  taken  had  they  not  touched  each  other. 

When  she  was  seated  he  pushed  off  and  disposed 
himself  at  the  oars.  He  kept  to  the  middle  of  the  lake, 
where  the  light  was  clear  and  strong.  They  had  not 
gone  many  yards  on  that  water  journey  of  three  miles 
before  her  father  said: 

"  You  wanted  to  tell  him  what  I  warned  you  I  would 
do?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  then  you  intended  to  break  your  promise  to 


me : 


"  No.     I  made  no  promise — not  in  so  many  words. 
239 


WHITE   MAGIC 


But  I  was  going  to  stand  by  the  engagement.  Peter 
has  become  repulsive  to  me,  but — any  man  would  be 
equally  so.  And  I  might  as  well  marry  and  have  done 
with." 

"  A  few  years  from  now,"  said  her  father,  "  you 
will  thank  me  for  having  saved  you  from  your  folly." 

She  dropped  her  hand  into  the  water.  The  moon 
beams  glistened  on  her  yellow  hair,  on  her  smooth, 
young  face  and  neck. 

"  You  ought  to  have  known,"  pursued  her  father, 
66  that  I  would  not  have  told  you  I  would  ruin  Wade 
unless  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  escape.  I  have  put 
his  investments  in  such  a  position  that  I  can  wipe  them 
out  or  not.  What  I'll  do  will  depend  on  whether  you 
are  foolish  or  sensible." 

She  glanced  up  for  an  instant.  Then  he  was  not  so 
guilty  as  she  had  thought — that  is,  perhaps  he  was  not. 

"  You  say  you  didn't  intend  to  break  the  engage 
ment,"  he  went  on.  "  Why,  then,  did  you  come  here 
to-night?" 

"  Because  you  had  made  it  impossible  for  me  to  let 
him  know  in  any  other  way." 

"  You  could  have  written,"  rej  oined  he ;  the  familiar 
note  of  suspicion,  of  the  keen  mind  on  the  scent  for  the 
hidden  truth  was  strong  in  his  voice.  "  I've  no  control 
over  the  mails." 

240 


UNDER    COFER    OF   NIGHT 

"  I  didn't  want  to  put  on  paper — such  a  thing — 
about — my  father." 

Richmond  rowed  in  silence  perhaps  ten  minutes. 
Then  he  said,  and  the  note  of  affection  was  fully  as 
strong  in  his  voice  as  the  note  of  suspicion  had  been  be 
fore: 

"  Was  that  your  only  reason?  " 

"  I  thought  so,5'  replied  she.  "  I  realize  now  that  I 
also  wanted  to  see  him — to  see  if  there  was  any  hope." 

"  You'd  feel  fine — wouldn't  you — if  you  made  a 
fool  of  yourself  with  this  man  and  then  found  out  that 
he  was  already  married?  " 

The  change  in  her  expression  was  apparent  even  in 
that  misleading  light.  During  the  long  silence  he  saw 
that  she  was  revolving  his  sinister  suggestion.  He  took 
his  time  before  going  on  in  a  calm,  deliberate  tone: 
"  We  know  nothing  about  him — except  that  he  is  a  man 
you.  in  your  right  senses,  would  never  think  of  marry- 
ing." 

"  That  is  true,"  replied  she,  "  if  you  mean  by  right 
senses  the  sort  of  girl  I  was  brought  up  to  be." 

"  The  sort  of  girl  you  are"  said  he  with  gentle  em 
phasis.  The  Daniel  Richmond  of  rage  and  threat  was 
tngulfed  in  the  wise  and  skillful  man  of  affairs. 

She  looked  at  him  with  her  old-time,  gay  mockery. 
"  You've  decided  to  take  a  different  tack  with  me,  I  see." 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Richmond  met  smile  with  smile — and  it  was  from 
him  that  she  had  got  the  peculiar  charm  of  her  smile. 
"  I  admit  I've  been  blundering,"  said  he.  "  My  eager 
ness  to  have  you  do  what  was  best  for  you  blinded  my 
judgment.  And  it  was  very  exasperating  to  see  you 
rushing  headlong  into  a  folly  you'd  repent  all  your  life. 
It's  hard  for  an  older  person  to  remember  how  inexperi 
enced  youth  is,  and  to  be  patient.  But  I'll  try  to  do 
better.  ...  I  sent  your  mother  to  see  whether  you  were 
in  your  room.  I  don't  know  why  I  did  it.  I've  got  in 
stincts  that  have  saved  me  in  tight  places  many  a  time. 
She  went,  came  back — said  you  were  there.  But  she 
can't  deceive  me  face  to  face.  She  has  learned  that  I 
scent  a  lie  like  a  terrier  a  rat.  So,  I  went  myself.  When 
I  saw  you  were  gone  it  sobered  me."  He  said  these 
things  in  a  thoroughly  human  way,  sincerely,  simply — 
himself  as  he  was  for  the  daughter  he  loved. 

"  I'd  like  to  be  able  to — to  do  as  you  wish,  father," 
said  she  with  gentleness.  "  But  when  I  told  you 

"  Let's  not  discuss  that  now,"  he  interrupted.  "  To 
morrow,  perhaps.  Not  now." 

Another  silence,  with  the  girl  rapidly  softening  to 
ward  her  father — her  always  indulgent  father,  and  she, 
the  recently  worldly,  could  appreciate  his  point  of  view 
— why,  at  times,  her  own  new  point  of  view  seemed  an 
aberration  in  a  dream. 


UNDER    COFER    OF   NIGHT 

She  said :  "  Have  you  reason  to  think  he  is — is  mar 
ried?  " 

"  So  have  you." 

"  He  never  told  me — never  hinted  such  a  thing." 

"  Did  he  ever  tell  you  he  was  not  married?  " 

"  Certainly  not."  Beatrice  laughed  aloud.  "  I 
never  told  him  I  was  not  married." 

"  You  say  you  asked  him  to  marry  you?  " 

«  Yes— I  did." 

"  And  you  say  he  refused?  " 

"  He  refused  absolutely.  He  laughed  at  the  idea 
that  I  really  cared  for  him.  If  you  could  have  heard, 
father!  That's  why  it'd  be  unjust  for  you  to  blame 
him.  It  was  every  bit  my  fault." 

"  Why  did  he  refuse  to  marry  you  ?  "  her  father 
asked  calmly. 

"  Because  he  did  not  care,  I  suppose — care  enough." 

"  What  reason  did  he  give?  " 

"  He  didn't  think  it  would  be  good  for  his  career. 
He —  Oh,  he  had  a  lot  of  reasons.  They  didn't  seem 
to  me  to  amount  to  much,  for,  of  course,  everybody 
wants  to  get  married,  and  expects  to,  some  time.  That 
was  why  I — hoped." 

"  Don't  you  think  he  may  have  been  evading — 
didn't  want  to  tell  you  the  real  reason  ?  " 

Her  father's  calm,  searching  insistence,  free  from 
243 


WHITE   MAGIC 


anger  or  malice,  friendly  toward  her,  not  unjust  to 
Roger — it  began  to  agitate  her,  to  fill  her  with  vague 
doubts  and  fears.  "  But  if  he  had  that  reason,"  urged 
she,  "  he  could  have  ended  everything  at  once  by  telling 
me." 

"  Unless  he  had  a  reason  for  silence,"  replied  Rich 
mond.  And  with  quiet  acuteness  he  explained :  "  Maybe 
he's  planning  to  get  rid  of  his  wife  so  that  he'll  be  free 
to  accept  you — and  the  fortune  he  thinks  goes  with 
you." 

"You're  trying  to  prejudice  me  against  him!" 
cried  the  girl,  all  in  a  turmoil  over  this  subtle  attack, 
which  seemed  to  come  as  much  from  within  as  from  with 
out. 

But  her  father  was  equal  to  this  emergency.  "  If 
you  intend  to  keep  your  engagement,"  said  he,  "  if  you 
have  no  hope  of  being  accepted  by  this  young  man  you 
know  nothing  about — you  wish  to  be  prejudiced 
against  him — don't  you,  Beatrice  ?  " 

There  seemed  to  be  no  effective  answer  to  this 
shrewdness. 

"  Yes,  I  do  want  to  prejudice  you  against  him," 
continued  Richmond.  "  I  want  you  to  wake  up  to  the 
fact  that  you've  been  doing  all  these  foolish,  compromis 
ing  things  for  a  man  about  whom  you  know  absolutely 
nothing." 

244 


UNDER    COVER    OF   NIGHT 

"  I'm  sure  he's  not  married ! "  exclaimed  Beatrice 
with  overemphasis. 

"  Maybe  not,"  was  her  father's  unruffled  reply. 
"  But  it  does  look  exceedingly  strange — doesn't  it? — 
that  a  girl  like  you  should  be  refused  by  a  poor  nobody 
— for  no  reason." 

"  He  is  honest  and  independent,"  replied  Beatrice 
strongly — but  not  so  strongly  as  she  wished.  "  He 
wouldn't  marry  me  unless  he  loved  me." 

"  But  I  should  think,"  subtly  suggested  Richmond, 
"  it  would  be — well,  not  so  very  hard  for  a  man  to  fall 
in  love  with  a  girl  who  had  so  many  advantages." 

Beatrice's  vanity  lined  up  strongly  behind  her 
worldly  common  sense  in  conceding  plausibility — and 
more — to  this  suggestion.  She  laughed,  but  she  was 
impressed. 

When  they  were  near  the  house  her  father  said 
good-humoredly :  "  Will  you  take  me  in  the  way  you 
came  out?  I've  told  Pinney  not  to  turn  on  the  alarms 
until  I  come  out  of  my  study — where  he  thinks  I  am." 

So,  father  and  daughter  reentered  Red  Hill  by 
stealth,  getting  a  lot  of  fun  out  of  the  adventure — and 
separating  at  her  door  with  a  good,  old-fashioned,  old- 
time  hug  and  kiss. 


XIII 


THE  bill  for  that  excursion  in  flimsy  dress  and  slip 
pers  through  the  wet,  cold  woods  was  promptly  pre 
sented;  and,  after  the  rude  manner  of  all  such  bills,  it 
had  to  be  met  on  sight.  As  has  been  hinted,  Beatrice 
did  not  have  those  refined,  ladylike  colds  which  enable 
heroines  of  fiction  to  continue  in  undiminished  loveli 
ness.  She  had  the  plain,  human  cold  that  reduces  its 
victim  to  a  wheezing,  sneezing,  snuffling  hunk  of  mis 
ery,  swollen  of  eyes  and  nose,  laden  with  pocket  hand 
kerchiefs.  She  let  no  one  but  the  family  see  her  at  such 
times — and  was  just  as  well  pleased  if  they  kept  away. 

Thus,  she  now  had  five  days  for  uninterrupted  re 
flection,  in  a  humble,  most  penitential  frame  of  mind. 
Her  father  did  not  disturb  her,  flattered  her  with  at 
tentions  of  specially  selected  flowers,  of  solicitous  in 
quiries  twice  a  day,  not  through  secretary  or  butler 
or  valet,  but  personally  seeking  her  own  maid. 

The  third  day  her  mother  came  with  glowing  ac 
counts  of  what  he  purposed  doing  for  her  in  commem 
oration  of  the  marriage.  The  chief  items  were  mag- 


PETER'S   BAD   QUARTER   HOUR 

nificent  jewels  and  the  Red  Hill  estate.  As  the  jewels 
would  be  too  dear,  to  her  who  loved  jewels,  for  her  ever 
to  think  of  realizing  on  them,  and  as  the  Red  Hill  es 
tate  would  call  for  a  huge  annual  appropriation  from 
her  father's  bounty  for  maintenance,  it  must  be  said 
that  Richmond,  resolved  to  keep  his  children  dependent, 
had  chosen  not  uncannily.  But  Beatrice  was  in  no 
mood  to  tear  his  acts  into  shreds  in  search  for  the  slyly 
concealed  motive.  Since  he  had  reversed  her  expec 
tations  by  dealing  gently  with  her  when  he  caught  her 
at  the  cascade,  she  had  almost  restored  him  to  favor 
in  her  thoughts.  Nor  did  the  fact  that  gentle  dealing 
was  absolutely  the  only  course  left  open  to  him  affect 
her  generous  judgment.  This  news  of  the  gifts,  the 
excited  talk  of  her  maid,  on  her  own  behalf  and  also 
in  repeating  what  was  being  said  below  stairs,  the 
journalistic  comments  on  the  approaching  "alliance" 
— all  these  things  tended  to  put  marrying  Peter  before 
her  in  a  less  unfavorable  light.  And  she  was  not  seeing 
Peter — nor  Roger. 

Abased  by  her  cold,  she  took  a  low  view  of  her  go 
ings  on  with  Roger.  She  succeeded  in  shaming  her 
skulking  pride  into  the  open,  where  it  made  earnest 
efforts  to  reproach  her  for  having  thrown  herself  at  a 
man  who  had  promptly  and  decisively  repulsed  her. 
No  matter  what  his  reason.  He  had  shown  her  that  he 

247 


WHITE   MAGIC 


did  not  love  her — and  did  not  want  her  love.  The 
older  people  grow,  the  less  nervous  they  are  about  be 
ing  sillily  romantic ;  they  glory  in  the  divine  follies  of 
love.  Young  heart  being  all  they  have  left  of  youth's 
fair,  fleeting  riches,  they  try  to  enjoy  it  to  the  utter 
most.  But  young  people,  if  at  all  sophisticated,  shy 
from  extravagant  romance;  they  fear  to  be  convicted 
of  the  horrible  crime  of  being  young  and  green ;  they 
dread  falling  victim  to  the  humiliating  swindle  of  lov 
ing  more  than  they  are  loved,  of  giving  more  than  they 
get.  Until  Beatrice  met  Roger  she  had  prided  herself 
on  the  control  of  her  mind  over  her  heart,  on  being 
"  woman  of  the  world."  She  now  began  to  smile — 
faintly,  but  with  attempt  at  mockery — upon  her  de 
lirium  of  love.  She  did  not  regret  it,  did  not  repent  it. 
But  she  thought  of  it  as  a  thing  of  the  past. 

Her  father  dropped  in  on  her  for  a  little  talk  be 
fore  dressing  for  dinner.  He  had  never  been  so  atten 
tive — and  no  man  could  be  more  fascinating  than  Rich 
mond,  when  he  wished.  "  I've  got  to  make  a  tour  of 
the  Northwest,"  said  he.  "  I  must  start  not  later  than 
the  twenty-second  of  May — and  be  gone  a  month.  I 
wish  you'd  either  put  off  the  wedding  till  I  get  back 
or  have  it  before  I  go.  When  Peter  comes  down  to 
morrow  you  and  he  can  talk  it  over.  You  know  I'd 
rather  you  married  before  I  go.  I'm  not  as  young 

248 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

as  I  once  was,  and  there's  an  element  of  uncertainty 
in  these  journeys.     But  it  shall  be  just  as  you  say." 

"  It'll  have  to  be  put  off,"  said  Beatrice. 

"  Don't  forget  that  Peter  has  made  arrangements 
for  you  to  be  presented  at  court  the  tenth  of  June." 

"  I  simply  can't  get  ready." 

"  Your  mother  thinks  you  can,"  said  Richmond, 
showing  his  keen  disappointment,  but  altogether  in 
regret,  not  at  all  in  anger  or  reproach.  "  Still,  do  the 
best  you  can.  Think  it  over.  Talk  with  Peter." 

"  I'll  do  the  best  I  can,"  said  Beatrice.  She  had 
protested  more  strongly  to  him  than  she  had  in  her 
own  heart,  for  she  was  now  sunk  down  into  indifference. 
Nothing  seemed  to  matter.  The  cold  had  left  her 
physically  below  par ;  her  mental  state  was  therefore 
blackly  pessimistic.  Roger's  lack  of  response  seemed 
profoundly  discouraging;  she  began  to  doubt  whether 
she  loved  him — whether  she  ever  had  loved  as  she  had 
fancied.  We  should  get  very  much  nearer  to  the  truth 
about  human  adversities  and  disasters — the  truth 
about  their  real  causes — did  we  but  know  exactly  what 
was  the  state  of  health  of  the  persons  chiefly  concerned. 
Beatrice  well  and  Beatrice  ill  were  two  absolutely  dif 
ferent  persons. 

"  Yes — I  know  you'll  oblige  me  if  it's  possible," 
said  her  father. 

17  249 


WHITE   MAGIC 


The  next  day  happened  to  be  a  Sunday.  Rich 
mond  himself  motored  down  to  meet  Peter,  who  was 
arriving  in  time  for  lunch. 

As  the  young  man  descended  from  the  train  it  took 
no  skill  whatever  at  reading  faces  to  discover  that  he 
was  out  of  humor — had  been  brooding  over  Beatrice's 
treatment  of  him,  and  in  the  brooding  had  lost  nothing 
of  the  grouch  he  had  taken  away  with  him.  A  weak 
man  never  looks  so  weak  as  when  he  is  out  of  humor; 
accordingly,  Peter  was  showing  his  true  character,  or 
lack  of  character,  with  a  distinctness  that  irritated 
Richmond  even  as  he  reflected  how  admirably  it  fitted 
in  with  his  plans.  Peter  was  not  to  blame  for  his  weak 
ness.  He  had  not  had  the  chance  to  become  otherwise. 
He  had  been  deprived  of  that  hand-to-hand  strife  with 
life  which  alone  makes  a  man  strong.  Usually,  how 
ever,  the  dangerous  truth  as  to  his  weakness  was  well 
hidden  by  the  fictitious  seeming  of  strength  which  ob 
stinacy,  selfishness,  and  the  adulation  of  a  swarm  of 
sycophants  and  dependents  combine  to  give  a  man  of 
means  and  position.  Richmond,  for  all  his  reverence 
for  Peter's  lineage  and  wealth  nearly  two  centuries  old, 
had  not  for  an  instant  been  deceived  as  to  his  personal 
character.  One  reason  why  he  felt  so  satisfied  with 
him  as  a  son-in-law  was  his  belief  that  Beatrice  could 
be  happy  only  with  a  man  she  could  rule ;  and  on  this 

250 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

Sunday  of  Peter's  arrival  with  his  weakness  stripped 
naked  to  the  most  casual  eye  by  his  bad  humor,  Rich 
mond  was  better  pleased  than  ever  with  his  selection 
for  his  high-strung  daughter. 

"  Peter,"  said  he  sharply,  when  he  had  him  in  the 
limousine. 

The  young  man  clinched  his  hands  in  a  feeble  ges 
ture  of  preparation  for  resolute  resistance. 

"  I've  got  to  go  West  the  middle  of  the  month.  I 
want  you  and  Beatrice  to  marry  before  I  go — say,  on 
the  twentieth.  You  have  to  be  in  London  early  in  the 
second  week  in  June?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Peter  reluctantly — the  yes  of  a  man 
lacking  the  moral  courage  to  say  no. 

"  I'll  not  be  in  the  East  again  before  the  middle  of 
June — maybe  July." 

"  Can't  do  it,"  said  Peter  with  a  sudden  scowl  at 
the  back  of  the  chauffeur  separated  from  them  by  thick 
glass. 

"  Why  not  ? "  inquired  Richmond  in  the  animal 
trainer's  tone  and  with  the  animal  trainer's  eye  upon 
the  unhappy  Peter.  "  Why  not  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  sure  I  shall  marry  at  all,"  said  Peter,  and 
his  fright  distorted  his  bluff  at  resoluteness  into  a  sort 
of  nervous  impudence,  like  that  of  the  schoolboy  brav 
ing  the  teacher's  uplifted  ferule  because  the  rest  of 

251 


WHITE   MAGIC 


the  school  is  waiting  with  ears  that  long  to  hear  him 
howl  and  beg. 

Richmond  twisted  his  small,  wiry  body  round  in  the 
seat  that  he  might  bring  the  various  batteries  in  and 
behind  his  face  full  upon  Vanderkief.  "  Is  this  a 
j  oke  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  wish  it  were,"  replied  Peter  diplomatically. 
"  I've  made  some  discoveries  that  will  compel  me  to — 
to  relieve  your  daughter  of — of  the  engagement  which 
— which  is  so  distasteful  to  her." 

Richmond's  policy  in  dealing  with  his  fellow-men 
was  to  strike  his  heaviest  blow  first — that  is,  he  blew 
up  the  intrenchments  before  he  charged  the  intrenched. 
He  laughed  in  that  gentle,  light  way  which  is  as  the 
soft  tap  of  the  nettle  leaf  that  instantly  produces  a 
swelling  and  a  smarting.  "  So,  this  is  why  you've  been 
sneaking  round  these  last  three  days,  trying  to  dis 
pose  of  the  stocks  I  let  you  in  on." 

Peter  grew  sickly  pale.  "  I've — I've  been — ar 
ranging  my  affairs  somewhat,"  mumbled  he. 

Richmond  laughed  again  —  cheerily,  genially. 
"  This  world,"  said  he,  "  is  peopled  by  fools.  But  the 
biggest  fool  of  all  is  the  fellow  who  thinks  he  is  a  lit 
tle  less  of  a  fool  than  the  others.  That  seems  to  fit 
you,  my  boy.  You  must  think  I  was  whelped  only  yes 
terday.  Do  you  suppose  I  trust  people  because  I  take 

252 


PETER'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR 

'em  in  with  me?  Why,  I'd  have  been  in  the  jail  or  the 
poorhouse  long  ago  if  I  had.  When  I  let  you  in  I 
locked  the  door  behind  you.  I  always  do." 

Peter's  hands  were  trembling  so  that  they  shook 
the  stick  round  which  he  had  them  clasped. 

"  You  think  you've  sold  out,"  continued  Richmond. 
"  Instead,  you'll  find  to-morrow  that  you  still  have  all 
you  bought  through  me — and  that  you've  got  to  buy 
as  much  more." 

"  But  I  can't  do  it,"  pleaded  Vanderkief — and  his 
voice  was  not  much  better  than  a  whine.  "  I've  got 
no  ready  money.  I'd  have  to  sell  real  estate  that's  been 
in  the  family  from  the  beginning." 

"  I'll  take  it  on  mortgage,"  said  Richmond  reas 
suringly.  "  So,  you  needn't  worry  about  that,  my 
boy." 

"  But  we  never  mortgage!  "  cried  Peter.  His  face 
became  shiny  with  sweat.  "  No,  indeed — we  never 
mortgage,  Mr.  Richmond.  I'm  much  obliged,  but  we 
never  mortgage." 

"  Got  to  begin  some  time,"  said  Richmond.  And 
seeing  that  his  prospective  son-in-law  was  in  the  proper 
state  of  flabbiness,  he  went  back  to  the  point.  "  Now 
— as  to  the  trouble  between  you  and  Beatrice.  Please 
explain  it.  Let's  see  just  what  it  is." 

"  She  cares  nothing  about  me." 
253 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"Who  says  so?" 

"  She  does." 

"When?" 

"  When  we  became  engaged." 

"  Yet  you  proposed  and  she  accepted." 

Peter  squirmed.  "  But  I  didn't  know  she  cared 
about — about  some  one  else." 

"Who?" 

"An— an  artist." 

"Who?" 

"  I  met  him  at  your  house."  Peter's  anger  was 
rising,  as  will  the  anger  of  the  worst  frightened  boy 
in  the  world  if  the  whipping  is  kept  up  long  enough. 
"  I  might  have  known,"  he  cried.  "  I  did  suspect,  the 
day  I  saw  him  painting  her.  But  it  seemed  absurd 
that  a  girl  of  her  position " 

"  It  is  absurd,"  cut  in  Richmond.  "  Who  told  you 
this  story  ?  " 

Peter  did  not  reply. 

"My  daughter?" 

"  No.     I'm  not  at  all  likely  to " 

"  Then  it  was  Allie  Kinnear,"  said  Richmond,  and 
Peter  guiltily  felt  as  if  the  information  had  been 
wrenched  from  him.  "  So,  she's  trying  to  marry 
you?" 

"  Mr.  Richmond,"  said  Peter  with  the  stiffness  of 
254 


PETER'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR 

an  insulted  man  of  ancient  lineage,  "  I  have  the  high 
est  esteem  for  Miss 

"  So  have  I,"  interrupted  Richmond.  "  She's  a 
pretty,  bright,  shrewd  girl.  She  fools  everybody. 
But  I'd  have  thought  you  would  have  been  on  guard." 

"  I  assure  you,  sir,  Miss  Kinnear — 

"  Oh — by  the  way  " — Richmond  broke  into  Peter's 
sentence  as  if  a  thought  on  another  subject  had  hap 
pened  to  flash  through  his  mind.  "  Bring  those  mort 
gages  to  my  office  before  two  o'clock  to-morrow,"  said 
he  carelessly.  "  I've  an  appointment  at  two-thirty. 
That  gives  us  a  clear  half  hour — plenty  of  time." 

Peter  seemed  to  wither.  The  internal  havoc  was 
more  dire  than  the  external;  for,  internally,  he  had 
shriveled. 

"  Miss  Kinnear  is  pretending  to  love  you,"  went 
on  his  tormentor,  harking  back  to  the  matrimonial 
business.  "  I  want  to  find  out  just  how  far  you've 
walked  into  her  trap." 

"  She  has  made  no  pretenses,"  protested  Peter. 
"  I'm  sure  if  she  married  a  man  it'd  be  because  she 
cared  for  him." 

"  Fudge,  Peter  —  fudge !  "  laughed  Richmond. 
"  You're  a  man  of  the  world.  You  know  what  she 
wants."  Then,  with  gimlet  eyes  and  with  bony  finger 
poking  into  the  heavy  muscle  of  Peter's  arm :  "  If  you 

255 


WHITE   MAGIC 


wish  to  know  what  anybody  wants  you  don't  listen  to 
what  they  sat/,  you  look  at  what  they  need" 

This  was  the  kind  of  shrewdness  that  made  impres 
sion  upon  Peter,  the  sensitively  suspicious.  He  winced, 
looked  uncomfortable  and  sheepish. 

"  There's  nothing  in  that  artist  story,"  scoffed 
Richmond.  "  You  know  Beatrice.  She's  very  proud. 
Take  my  advice,  don't  speak  to  her  about  it.  If  she 
got  a  notion  that  you  were  flirting  with  Allie —  '  Rich 
mond  made  a  gesture  suggestive  of  vague,  vast  dan 
gers. 

"  I  hope,  sir,  you've  not  got  the  impression  that  I 
—that  I — "  Peter  came  to  a  full  stop. 

"  I've  got  no  impression  at  all  except  that  you 
wish  to  marry  Beatrice  on  the  eighteenth." 

"  The  twentieth,"  corrected  Peter. 

"  The  twentieth,  then."  Richmond  had  now 
changed  his  manner  to  the  benevolent  paternal.  "  And 
do  be  sensible,  young  man,  and  make  no  trouble  be 
tween  Beatrice  and  Allie." 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  when  Peter  and  Beatrice 
were  strolling  down  the  Italian  garden  after  lunch, 
Peter  lost  no  time  in  obeying  Richmond's  orders.  Nor 
did  he  set  about  it  with  any  reluctance,  for  Beatrice 
was  once  more  herself  and,  in  a  costume  that  gave  her 
every  charm  its  best  chance,  was  enough  to  turn  a  far 

256 


PETER'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR 

steadier  head  than  Peter's  had  been  in  several  years 
where  she  was  concerned.  "  Don't  you  think,"  said  he, 
"  that  we'd  better  change  the  date  to  the  eighteenth  ?  " 

She  made  no  immediate  reply.  They  walked  slowly 
toward  the  arch  at  the  farther  end,  he  glancing  at  her 
from  time  to  time  with  a  notion  that  she  had  not  heard. 
At  last  he  asked:  "  Did  you  hear?  " 

She  nodded,  seated  herself  on  an  old  stone  seat 
from  the  garden  of  an  ancient  palace,  where  it  had  no 
doubt  participated  in  many  a  fateful  interview  between 
man  and  woman. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  about?  "  inquired  he. 

"  About  our  marriage."  She  gave  him  a  steady, 
penetrating  look — the  sort  of  look  that  always  made 
him  ill  at  ease  with  her  and  a  little  afraid  of  what  mar 
rying  her  might  mean.  "  Do  you  want  to  marry  me. 
Peter?"  she  asked. 

"  What  rot !  "  exclaimed  he.  His  glance  shifted. 
*  You  know  you  don't,"  rejoined  the  girl.  "Your 
good  sense  tells  you  I'm  not  the  sort  of  woman  a  man 
would  enjoy  being  tied  to  unless  she  loved  him.  You 
don't  want  to  marry  me,  and  I  don't  want  to  marry 
you." 

"What's  the  use  of  this  kind  of  talk?  "  he  remon 
strated. 

"  Every  use.     Let's  refuse  to  marry." 
257 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Peter  looked  strangely  alarmed,  glanced  round  as 
if  in  mortal  dread  lest  they  were  being  overheard. 
"  If  your  father  hears  of  this  he'll  blame  me,"  he  cried. 
"  I  tell  you  I  want  to  marry  you.  I'm  determined  to 
marry  you.  I've  given  my  word  and  you've  given 
yours.  And  we'll  marry  on  the — 

"  I  ask  you  to  release  me,"  interrupted  the  girl. 

"  I'll  not  do  it !  "  And  visions  of  money  pouring 
out  and  mortgages  pouring  in  put  a  note  of  shrill  hys 
teria  into  his  usually  heavy  voice. 

"  I  thought  I  could  marry  you,"  said  Beatrice, 
strong,  vigorously  strong  under  a  surface  of  sweet 
gentleness.  "  I  find  I  can't.  You'll  release  me." 

"  I  will  not !  "  exclaimed  Peter,  once  more  shiny 
with  sweat  and  mopping  industriously.  "  And  I  want 
you  to  tell  your  father  that  I  absolutely  refused  to  re 
lease  you — that  I  insisted  on  your  marrying  me." 

"  My  father  ?  "  said  the  girl  wonderingly .  "  What 
has  he  got  to  do  with  it?  " 

Peter  was  winded  for  the  moment.  He  recovered 
quickly,  hastened  to  explain :  "  I — I've  the  highest  re 
spect  for  your  father.  I  wouldn't  like  him  to  think  for 
a  minute  that  I  was  careless  about  my  word — or  that 
I  wasn't  bent  and  determined  to  marry  you.  I  want 
you  to  understand,  Beatrice.  I  hold  you  to  your 
promise." 

258 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

"  As  I've  told  you,  I  love  another  man,"  said  Bea 
trice.  "  I  thought  I  was  getting  over  it.  I  find  it  was 
simply  a  fit  of  the  blues."  She  smiled  absently.  "  I 
ran  across  an  old  pipe  of  his  that  I  had  locked  in  a 
drawer — a  horrid,  smelly,  old  pipe.  And — Peter,  were 
you  ever  in  love?  " 

"With  you,"  said  he,  sullen  and  jealous — and  cer 
tainly  her  expression,  her  tone,  were  not  soothing  to 
his  vanity,  fine  and  beautiful  though  they  were  in 
themselves. 

She  laughed.  "  Your  grandmother !  "  mocked  she. 
"  That  pipe — it  was  like  one  of  those  enchanted  things 
in  The  Arabian  Nights.  It  made  me  see  " — her  eyes 
grew  fascinatingly  tender  and  dreamy — "  and  see — 
and  see!  .  .  .  Could  you  marry  a  woman  who  felt  like 
that  about  another  man  ?  " 

"  Then  why  did  you  engage  yourself  to  me?  " 

"  Because  he  won't  have  me,"  confessed  she,  her  old- 
time  pride  in  her  love  rampant. 

"  I  never  heard  such  rot !  "  exclaimed  he  in  disgust. 

"  And  I  know  you  really  don't  want  to  marry  me," 
she  went  on  in  a  voice  of  appeal,  of  confidence  in  his 
manhood,  in  his  friendliness  for  her,  his  childhood  play 
mate. 

If  Richmond  had  been  standing  behind  his  daugh 
ter,  making  menacing  faces  at  Peter  over  her  shoulder, 

259 


WHITE   MAGIC 


that  sore-beset,  young  man  could  not  have  felt  him  more 
curdlingly.  "  You  don't  know  anything  of  the  kind," 
he  blustered.  "  Don't  you  dare  tell  your  father  any 
thing  like  that." 

She  scrutinized  him.  "  You  seem  to  have  father  on 
the  brain.  .  .  .  Peter — Hanky — what  has  he  been  say 
ing  to  you?  " 

"  Nothing,"  lied  Peter  shiftily.     "  Not  a  word." 

"  That  isn't  true,  Hanky.     Is  it?  " 

He  hung  his  head. 

"  Own  up.     He's  been — threatening  you?  " 

"  Now,  look  here,  Beatrice — you  are  trying  to  get 
me  into  trouble,"  pleaded  and  protested  Hanky.  "  I 
haven't  said  a  word  about  your  father's  having  spoken 
to  me  of  you." 

"  What  has  he  been  threatening  ?  "  persisted  the 
girl,  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  You  can  trust  me,  Hanky. 
You  know,  I  keep  my  mouth  shut." 

"  I've  got  nothing  to  tell,"  he  insisted  with  a  kind 
of  whining  doggedness.  "  All  I  say  is,  I  want  to  marry 
you.  If  you're  stuck  on  another  man  and  won't  marry 
me  I  can't  help  it.  But  7  want  to  marry  you" 

"  I  understand  perfectly — perfectly,"  said  Bea 
trice.  "  He's  compelling  each  of  us  to  marry  the  other. 
I  want  to  marry  another  man.  You  want  to  marry 

Allie.     But " 

260 


^PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

"  I  don't  want  to  marry  Allie !  "  he  protested  with 
the  energy  of  terror.  "  I  said  nothing  to  you  about 
her.  Anyhow,  I  regard  her  as  an  underhanded,  de 
signing  fraud.  She  told  me  about  you  and  Wade.  Yes, 
she  was  the  one  that  did  it." 

"Well,  why  not?"  cried  Beatrice.  "I've  no  ob 
jection.  She  knows  I  want  to  get  out  of  marrying 
you." 

Peter's  eyes  glistened  with  hope.  "  You  gave  her 
leave  to  tell?  You  asked  her  to  tell?  " 

"Practically.     What  of  it?" 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that !  "  cried  he  with  a  gusty 
breath  of  relief.  "  I  was  beginning  to  think  women 
were  all  alike — that  there  wasn't  any  such  thing  as  sen 
timent  in  them." 

Beatrice's  eyes  sparkled  with  mischief.  "  Yes, 
Hanky,  and  she  practically  had  my  permission  to  make 
love  to  you.  I'm  sure  she's  just  dying  to  marry  you. 
Now,  you'll  release  me,  won't  you  ?  " 

Peter  lit  a  cigarette  and  inspected  the  horizon  as 
if  hoping  to  sight  something  in  the  way  of  aid.  "  I 
can't  do  it,  Beatrice,"  he  finally  said,  deeply  apologetic. 
"  If  I  could  tell  you  what  a  ghastly  fix  I'm  in,  I  assure 
you  you'd  not  blame  me." 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  said  she.  "  It's  just  as  well 
for  me  to  dc  it  alone." 

261 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"You're  going  to  release  me?"  cried  he  eagerly. 

"  What  would  father  say  if  he  saw  you  now !  "  said 
she. 

The  eagerness  whisked  out  of  his  face. 

"  That's  better,"  mocked  she.  "  But  I'll  not  tease 
you,  Hanky — with  your  soul  torn  between  love  and 
money.  I  shall  take  the  whole  responsibility.  I  shall 
refuse  to  marry  you." 

But  Peter  continued  to  look  depressed.  "  Your 
father'll  think  it  was  something  I  said." 

"  My  father  will  not  think  I  could  have  been  dis 
couraged  that  easily — or  at  all — if  I  wished  to  be  your 
wife.  He'll  know  you  are  too  fond  of  money  to  risk 
losing  any.  Don't  be  alarmed,  Peter.  Father  will  un 
derstand  the  instant  you  tell  him." 

"/  tell  him!"  cried  Peter.  "You'll  have  to  do 
that  yourself.  You're  used  to  him.  You  don't  realize 
how  he  gets  on  my  nerves.  If  I  tried  to  tell  him  I'd  get 
permanent  paralysis  of  the  tongue  before  a  word 
came." 

"  What  a  stupid  you  are !  Don't  you  see  that  I'm 
letting  you  tell  him,  as  a  favor — to  help  you  to  escape  ? 
You  go  to  him — complain  of  me — urge  him  to  make 
me  keep  my  promise.  Understand?  " 

Peter  saw  it,  looked  humble  apology. 

"  Put  it  to  him  as  strong  as  you  like,"  pursued 
262 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

Beatrice.     "  You  can't  make  it  any  worse  for  me,  and 
you'll  make  it  a  lot  better  for  yourself," 

Peter  looked  at  her  so  admiringly  that  she  sent  him 
away  on  the  instant.  She  knew  him — knew  how  easily 
she  could  get  him  back  if  she  wished,  and  how  little  it 
would  take  to  make  him  forget  his  resentment  at  her 
failure  to  appreciate  him  and  at  her  father's  energetic 
methods — and  his  dread  of  what  life  with  so  strenuous 
a  will  as  hers  might  mean.  "  Tell  him  right  away, 
Hanky,"  advised  she,  pointing  with  her  sunshade  to 
where  Richmond  stood  in  the  library  window  observing 
them.  "  Let's  get  it  over  with." 

Mrs.  Richmond  sat  writing  at  a  desk  not  far  from 
where  Richmond  was  standing.  As  Peter  started  up 
the  walk  toward  the  house  Richmond  said  to  his  wife: 
"  What  a  chucklehead  Peter  is !  No  wonder  Beatrice 
felt  like  balking." 

"  Oh,  I  shouldn't  say  Peter  was  worth  getting  ex 
cited  about,  one  way  or  the  other,"  replied  Mrs.  Rich 
mond. 

"  The  young  men  growing  up  nowadays  are  a 
mighty  cheap,  thin  lot.  He's  as  good  as  any."  Rich 
mond  pressed  his  lips  together  firmly.  "  And  he's  the 
best  possible  husband  for  her.  A  strong  woman  ought 
to  marry  a  small  man  if  there's  to  be  peace." 

263 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Mrs.  Richmond  sneered — faintly  and  covertly — at 
the  paper  before  her.  She  did  not  miss  any  of  the  pos 
sible  implications  of  her  husband's  remark.  For  once, 
however,  she  did  him  an  injustice.  He  was  not  hitting 
at  her — had  not  meant  to  insinuate  that  a  strong 
man  ought  to  marry  a  small  woman,  and  that  Daniel 
Richmond  had  done  this  very  thing.  He  was  thinking 
only  of  his  daughter  and  Peter.  He  would  have  liked 
to  provide  her  with  a  real  man ;  he  sincerely  regretted 
the  exigencies  of  his  game — of  the  game  of  life  as  it 
lies — that  forbade  it,  that  forced  him  to  give  her  only 
a  Peter  Vanderkief. 

He  consoled  himself  by  feeling  that  she  would  be 
fore  many  years  appreciate  what  he  had  done  for  her 
— this,  when  she  should  have  installed  herself  in  the 
dazzling  position  her  ability  would  make  out  of  the 
wealth  he  could  give  her  and  the  prestige  she  would  get 
through  Peter's  ancient  lineage.  Being  a  man  of  im 
agination — as  every  man  who  achieves  in  whatever  di 
rection  must  be — Richmond  had  a  strong  vein  of  senti 
ment,  of  romance.  He  could  not  but  sympathize  with 
his  daughter's  heart  trouble,  now  that  her  acquiescence 
in  his  plans  permitted  him  to  be  fair-minded — in  se 
cret.  But  romance  was  a  fleeting  thing,  while  the 
things  he  had  been  planning  for  her  were  not  spring 
time  ephemerals,  but  the  substantialities  that  make  a 

264 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

human  being  comfortable  and  often  happy  the  whole 
life  through  from  youth  to  old  age. 

When  Peter  entered,  Mrs.  Richmond  had  finished 
her  note  and  was  just  departing.  "Will  you  drive 
with  me  in  about  an  hour?  "  asked  she,  passing  him  in 
the  door. 

"  Sorry,  but  I've  got " 

"  Oh,  if  Beatrice  needs  you,"  laughed  she,  going  on 
and  leaving  the  two  men  alone. 

Peter  interrupted  Richmond's  reverie  with  a  bomb. 
"  Beatrice  has  broken  the  engagement,"  said  he  nerv 
ously.  "  She  refuses  to  marry  me." 

The  small,  wiry  figure  in  the  window  swung  round 
with  a  jerk.  Gone  were  the  sentimental  reflections  in 
spired  by  the  lovely  prospect  from  that  window,  his 
daughter  the  crown  and  climax  of  the  loveliness. 
"  Why?  "  he  shot  at  the  young  man. 

Peter  shrank  only  a  trifle.  He  was  strong  in  his 
strong  case.  "  Because  she  does  not  care  for  me  and 
cares  for  some  one  else." 

"  That  trash  again!     You  refused  to  release  her?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Peter,  proud  of  his  virtue. 

"Well?" 

"  She  released  herself." 

Richmond  wheeled  round,  noted  his  daughter  seated 
in  the  same  place,  twirling  her  pale-blue  sunshade  and 
18  265 


WHITE   MAGIC 


looking  idly  about.     He  wheeled  back,  started  for  the 
door. 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,"  said  Peter,  "  but  I  am  taking 
the  train  for  town.  This  puts  me  in  an  embarrassing 
— p  ainf ul ' 

"  Wait  here,"  ordered  Richmond,  and  disappeared. 

Peter,  discreetly  standing  well  back  in  the  room, 
watched  the  father  speeding  toward  the  daughter  and 
awaited  in  nervous  suspense  the  crash  of  the  collision. 
He  marveled  that  she  could  sit  placidly  when  she  knew 
exactly  what  was  coming.  "  She  sure  is  the  real 
thing,"  he  muttered.  "  Where  can  you  beat  it  ?  A  sport 
— that's  what  I  call  her — a  good  sport." 

When  Richmond  arrived  within  comfortable  speak 
ing  distance  of  the  placid  girl  with  the  sweet  smile  of 
welcome  he  began.  "  How  did  Vanderkief  get  this  false 
impression  ?  "  said  he  in  a  flexible  tone,  readily  con 
vertible  either  to  geniality  or  to  wrathful  imperious- 
ness. 

"  Has  he  told  you  I  am  willing  to  marry  him  ?  " 
inquired  she. 

Richmond  beamed.  "  I  thought  the  numskull  didn't 
know  what  he  was  talking  about !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  He 
says  you  won't  marry  him." 

"  Oh,"  said  Beatrice  with  her  merriest  smile.  "  I 
thought  you  said  he  had  a  false  impression." 

266 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

Richmond  shook  his  head  impatiently.  "  Have  you 
or  have  you  not  told  him  you'd  not  marry  him?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Beatrice,  eyes  dancing  with  the 
pleasure  of  teasing  him. 

"  Yes — what?  "  demanded  he. 

"  What  you  said,"  replied  she. 

"  Beatrice — I  insist  on  a  serious  answer.  Peter 
came  to  me  and  said " 

"  Oh,  papa !  Surely,  you're  not  going  over  that 
again.  You  said  it  all  before." 

Richmond  paused  to  frame  a  question  that  could 
be  answered  only  plainly.  "  Did  you  tell  Peter  you 
would  not  marry  him?  "  he  said  sternly,  though  he  had 
too  good  a  sense  of  humor  not  to  appreciate  her  child 
ish  cleverness. 

"  I  did,"  laughed  Beatrice,  engagingly  at  her  ease. 
"  Can  you  blame  me?  " 

Richmond  seated  himself  on  the  bench  beside  her. 
"You  realize  the  consequences  of  your  refusal?"  he 
said  coldly. 

Her  face  became  sober.  The  eyes  with  which  she 
met  his  gaze  were  as  resolute  as  his  own.  "  I  realize 
the  consequences  of  not  refusing,"  said  she.  "  And 
I'm  prepared  to  take  the  consequences  of  refusing." 

Richmond's  baffled  expression  was  pushed  aside  by 
one  of  arrogant  anger.  "  What  did  Peter  say  to  you? 

267 


WHITE   MAGIC 


I  understand  this   affair.     I'll  make  that  young  man 
writhe  for  his  impudent  treachery !  " 

"  He  pleaded  with  me  to  marry  him.  He  refused 
to  release  me.  He  went  straight  to  you " 

"  You  can't  trick  me ! "  cried  her  father,  his  ex 
pressive  eyes  sparkling  ominously.  "  Before  I  get 
through  with  this  situation  I  think  all  concerned  will 
regret  having  crossed  my  will.  That's  always  the  way 
— good  nature  is  mistaken  for  weakness." 

"  You  may  ruin  Peter  if  you  feel  you  can  afford  to 
be  so  contemptible,"  said  Beatrice  unmoved,  "  and  you 
may  ruin  Roger  Wade — though  I  doubt  if  he'll  regard 
losing  a  little  money  as  ruin.  But  you " 

"  I  told  you  I'd  drive  him  from  the  country  in  dis 
grace  !  " 

Through  the  youth  of  the  girl  showed  her  inheri 
tance  of  strength  of  soul,  to  make  a  woman  of  her,  a 
personality  a  match  for  his  own.  "  If  you  bring  out 
anything  disgraceful  about  him  that's  true  you'll  be 
only  doing  what's  right,"  said  she  calmly.  "  If  you 
try  to  damage  him  with  falsehood  I  shall  myself  tell 
who's  doing  it  and  why." 

A  sense  of  his  powerlessness  against  her  silenced 
him. 

"  You  may  do  your  worst,  as  I  was  saying,"  she 
went  on.  "  But  I  shall  not  marry  any  man  I  do  not  at 

268 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

least  respect ;  I  shall  not  marry  any  poor,  tiresome 
creature  like  Hanky.  I've  learned  better.  I've  found 
something  with  which  to  contrast  life  with  him.  And 
I  cannot  and  will  not  do  it." 

There,  of  course,  had  been  a  time  in  Daniel  Rich 
mond's  career  when  he  had  made  his  way  and  gained 
his  points  by  discussing  and  reasoning  with  his  fellow- 
beings.  Every  leader  wins  leadership  by  persuading 
his  fellows  that  he  has  the  necessary  qualifications. 
But  that  time  had  long  passed ;  for  many  a  year  Rich 
mond  had  been  in  the  habit  of  deciding  what  to  do  at 
a  council  within  his  own  brain  and  informing  the  out 
side  world  of  his  decision  only  by  acts  and  orders.  He 
now  continued  silent,  regarding  the  ground;  he  was 
fighting  for  control  of  his  temper,  fighting  for  the 
calmness  to  argue  with  this  rebel  daughter.  To  make 
her  reasonable  he  must  first  become  so,  himself. 

"  You  have  not  known  this  artist  long — have 
you?  "  he  said  at  length  in  the  tone  of  a  rational  being 
and  a  father. 

"  Long  enough,"  replied  the  girl. 

"  Long  enough  for  what  ?  "  inquired  the  father 
pleasantly,  though  his  daughter's  tone — she  being  still 
much  ruffled  internally — was  teasing  his  temper. 

"  Long  enough  to  know  that  I  care  for  him." 

Her  father  laughed  agreeably.  "  You  and  I  are 
269 


WHITE   MAGIC 


much  alike,  my  dear,"  said  he.  "  You  know  yourself 
well  enough  to  know  that  the  real  reason  for  your  ex 
citement  is  opposition.  Now,  be  reasonable.  What 
could  I  do  but  oppose?  Can  you  blame  me  for  oppos 
ing?  Can  you  wonder  that  I  am  afraid  you  will  do 
something  foolish — something  you  will  regret  your 
whole  life?  Suppose  this  was  a  case  of  some  other 
father  and  daughter — a  case  you  had  no  personal  in 
terest  in.  Would  you  be  on  the  side  of  the  father  or 
of  the  daughter  ?  " 

There  was  no  resisting  this  fairness,  so  fairly  put. 
Beatrice  smiled.  "  On  the  side  of  the  father,"  said  she 
promptly.  "  I  don't  expect  you  to  understand,  father. 
I  see  all  your  arguments.  I  see  how  foolish  and  head 
long  I  seem  to  you.  But —  The  fact  remains  that  I 
love  Roger  Wade.  I  know  I  am  not  making  a  fool  of 
myself  in  loving  him.  Oh,  you'll  say  that  in  the  same 
circumstances  other  girls  have  said  the  same  thing, 
when  they  were  simply  blinded  and  deceived  by  their 
craze  for  romance.  But  this  case  is  the  exception. 
And  I  know  it."  She  looked  at  him  with  her  sweetest 
expression.  "  Let  me  ask  you  a  few  questions.  Do  you 
know  Roger  ?  " 

"  I  understand  that  sort  of  man  perfectly.  It's  a 
familiar  type.  Every  girl  with  expectations  has  sev 
eral  such  buzzing  about  her." 

270 


'"Not  another  word!     I'll  show  von,  miss — '" 


PETER'S  BAD  QUARTER  HOUR 

"Is  that  honest,  father?  Is  that  really  the  im 
pression  you  have  of  Roger  Wade?  " 

The  dangerous  look  reappeared  in  Richmond's  face 
— in  his  eyes,  round  his  mouth. 

"  Now,  don't  get  angry,  father.  That  would  be 
confession,  you  know.  One  does  not  get  angry  in  a 
discussion  unless  one  is  in  the  wrong." 

"  Who  wouldn't  get  angry,  seeing  a  girl  like  you 
bent  on  making  a  fool  of  herself." 

"  If  you  were  where  you  were  when  you  started,  and 
you  met  such  a  man  as  Roger,  you'd  be — 

"  Don't  speak  his  name  to  me,"  cried  Richmond, 
twitching  and  squirming.  "  I  ask  you  to  take  time  to 
come  to  your  senses." 

"  I've  tried  that.  When  I  don't  see  him,  it's  even 
clearer  to  me  than  when  I  do  that  I  must  marry  him. 
Besides,  if  he  weren't  on  earth  now,  I  still  couldn't 
marry  the  Hanky  sort.  Oh,  father  dear — can't  you 
see  the  change  in  me?  As  you  say,  I'm  like  you.  Put 
yourself  in  my  place.  Would  you  marry  the  sort  of 
person  Hanky  is — the  sort  all  the  Hankies  are — if  you 
could—"  She  sighed.  "But  I  can't.  He  won't. 
Father,  please  help  me !  " 

There  was  a  conflict  of  expressions  in  Richmond's 
face  as  she  made  this  appeal  movingly.  It  was  sheer 
confession  of  fear  of  his  own  better  self  which  loved  his 


WHITE   MAGIC 


daughter,  which  respected  the  things  she  was  now 
learning  to  respect — it  was  sheer  confession  when  he 
flew  into  furious  rage — the  one  mood  where  a  human 
being  is  safe  from  the  entreaties  of  heart  and  the  coun 
sels  of  higher  intelligence.  "  You  are  crazy — plain 
crazy !  "  he  cried  in  his  most  insulting  tone.  "  There's 
no  excuse  for  you — none !  Reasoning  with  you  is  time 
wasted." 

"  If  I'm  crazy  there's  every  excuse  for  me,"  an 
swered  she,  with  the  placidity  of  the  anger  that  is  be 
yond  the  stage  of  bluster  and  sputter.  "  If  I'm  not 
crazy  there's  no  excuse  for  you." 

"  Answer  me !  Are  you  going  to  be  sensible  ?  Are 
you  ready  to  drop  tomfoolery  and  make  a  happy  and 
contented  future  for  yourself?  " 

"  If  I  can,"  replied  she.     "  If  Roger  will " 

Up  sprang  Richmond.  "  Not  another  word !  I'll 
show  you,  miss — 

"  Yes,  one  word  more,"  interrupted  she.  "  I  want  to 
say  just  one  thing  more.  If  you  do  not  agree  to  let 
Peter  and  Mr.  Wade  alone  I  shall  leave  your  house  at 
once — and  this  time  it  will  be  for  good." 

«  You — threaten  me!  "  he  shouted,  shaking  with 
fury,  for  that  sense  of  ultimate  powerlessness  with  her 
had  driven  him  quite  insane. 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  stay  or  to  go?  "  asked  she,  her 
272 


PETER'S   BAD    QUARTER    HOUR 

color  gone,  but  every  sign  of  steadfastness  in  her  face, 
in  her  figure,  in  her  attitude. 

"  Go !  "  he  shrieked.  "  Go — and  make  a  fool  and  a 
scandal  of  yourself.  Go !  Go  !  Go !  " 

And  away  he  rushed,  a  crazy  man. 


XIV 

THE    SECOND    FLIGHT 

PETER  met  her  in  the  main  entrance.  "  How  did  he 
take  it?"  he  asked  excitedly,  his  nerves  obviously  un 
strung. 

"  Not  very  well,"  replied  she. 

"  Yes — I  saw  him  tearing  away  into  the  woods. 
Good  Lord !  How  can  you  take  it  so  quietly !  " 

By  way  of  answer  Beatrice  shrugged  her  shoulders 
and  lifted  her  eyebrows. 

"  Beatrice — honestly  don't  you  think  we'd  better  go 
ahead  and  do  as  he  wants?  He  is  a  dangerous  man 
— believe  me,  he  is.  I  don't  like  to  speak  so  of  your 
father,  but  everyone  agrees  that  he 

"  You  can  never  tell  a  man's  family  any  news  about 
what  he  is,"  said  Beatrice. 

"  He'll  make  life  a  hell  for  you,"  groaned  Hanky. 
"  And  he'll  make  mischief  for  me." 

"I  think  not,"  replied  she.  "He'll  have  other 
things  besides  you  to  occupy  him.  He  knows  it's 
wholly  my  fault." 

"  But,  Beatrice — don't  be  obstinate.  You  must  know 
it'd  really  not  be  so  rotten  bad  to  marry  me." 


THE   SECOND   FLIGHT 


"  I  thought  I  mentioned  the  fact  that  I'm  in  love 
with  some  one  else." 

"  Oh — to  be  sure,"  said  Peter.  "  I  suppose  that  has 
got  something  to  do  with  it.  But  your  obstinacy " 

"  That's  it,"  mocked  the  girl.  "  Obstinacy.  Well, 
whatever  my  reason  is,  I'm  leaving  here  by  the  next 
train." 

"  But  I  was  going  by  that,"  objected  Hanky.  "  I 
must  get  away  from  here." 

"  Better  stay  on  and  let  father  see  you're  not  at  all 
to  blame,"  advised  she.  "  If  we  went  up  town  together 
he'd  be  sure  you  were  conspiring  with  me." 

"  Oh,  I'll  stay— I'll  stay,"  cried  Peter.  "  But  where 
are  you  going,  Beatrice?" 

"  Not  to  get  any  of  my  friends  in  trouble,"  said  she. 
"  I'll  take  Valentine  and  go  to  a  hotel — to  the  Wolcott. 
Come  and  call.  I'll  not  tell  father." 

"  At  a  hotel !  "  Peter  stared  stupefied.  "  You  don't 
mean  you're  leaving  home — for  good?  " 

"  Wouldn't  you — in  my  place?  " 

"  No.  I'd  be  sensible  and  marry  the  man  my  father 
wished." 

Beatrice  looked  at  him  quizzically.  "  Hanky,"  said 
she,  "  you  ought  to  fall  on  your  knees  every  day  of 
your  life  and  give  thanks  that  you  had  the  good  luck  to 
escape  marrying  me." 

275 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Her  mischievous  smile,  her  mocking  tone,  combined 
with  the  words  themselves,  had  an  immediately  tranquil- 
izing  effect  upon  him.  Not  for  the  first  time  by  any 
means  he  had  a  chilling,  queasy  misgiving  that  there 
was  truth  in  that  view  of  a  marriage  between  them. 
After  a  pause  he  said: 

"But  what  will  you  do?" 

"  Blessed  if  I  know,"  replied  she,  as  if  the  matter 
were  of  not  the  smallest  consequence. 

"  You'll  have  no  friends.  Nobody'll  dare  be  friends 
with  you." 

"  Have  I  any  friends  now  ? — any  worth  calling  my 
own?" 

"  Then,  as  I  understand  it,  you  haven't  got  much 
money.  About  enough  to  pay  for  dresses  ?  " 

"  About." 

"Then — what  will  you  do?"  repeated  he,  a  real, 
friendly  solicitude  in  his  voice  and,  better  still,  in  his 
eyes. 

"  That's  unimportant.  I'm  escaping  worse  than  I 
could  possibly  be  running  into." 

"  Marry  me,  Beatrice,"  cried  he.  "  It's  not  a  bad 
bet  if  you  lose." 

She  put  out  her  hand  impulsively  with  a  grateful 
smile,  the  sweetest  and  friendliest  he  had  ever  had  from 
her.  "  I  like  that,  Hanky !  And  I  like  you  when  you 

276 


THE   SECOND   FLIGHT 


show  what  you  really  are.  But  I'm  not  taking  advan 
tage  of  your  generosity." 

"  I  mean  it,  Beatrice — in  dead,  sober  earnest — on  a 
cold  collar." 

She  shook  her  pretty  head  smilingly.  "  Good-by. 
Come  to  see  me.  If  we  run  across  each  other  when 
father's  about  scowl  and  look  the  other  way." 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for?  " 

"  For  a  person  with  a  little  sense.  Keep  solid  with 
father — for  Allie's  sake. 

"  But  I  want  you " 

She  fled,  laughing  as  if  she  had  not  a  care  in  the 
world. 

She  tried  to  make  her  departure  unobtrusive.  But 
her  father  would  not  have  it  so.  Coming  toward  the 
house  with  the  worst  of  his  rage  about  steamed  away  he 
caught  sight  of  her  and  her  maid  waiting  while  several 
trunks  and  packages  were  being  loaded  on  the  roof  of 
a  touring  car.  At  the  sight  he  went  insane  again.  He 
rushed  wildly  toward  them  and  shouted  out,  heedless  of 
the  servants :  "  Take  that  car  back  to  the  garage,  Lery ! 
Valentine,  go  into  the  house — report  to  Mrs.  Rich 
mond.  And  you  " — he  glared  crazily  at  his  daughter 
— "  if  you  leave  here  you  walk ! — and  you  never  come 
back!" 

Beatrice  took  the  hand  bag  from  her  maid.  "  Good- 
277 


WHITE   MAGIC 


by,  Valentine,"  said  she.  There  was  a  wonderful,  quiet 
dignity  in  her  bearing — a  delicate  correctness  of  atti 
tude,  neither  forward  nor  shrinking — evident  sensi 
bility  to  the  situation,  yet  no  desire  to  aggravate  it 
by  show  of  superior  breeding  or  by  defiance.  It  was 
a  situation  savagely  testing  character.  Beatrice  re 
sponded  to  the  test  in  a  way  that  augured  well  for  her 
being  able  to  look  out  for  herself  in  any  circumstances. 
She  smiled  pleasantly,  yet  with  restraint,  to  the  agi 
tated  servants  and  started  down  the  road. 

Valentine  hesitated,  then  set  out  in  her  wake.  "  Come 
back  here !  "  shouted  Richmond.  "  You  are  in  my  em 
ploy,  not  my  daughter's." 

Beatrice,  guessing  what  was  occurring,  paused  and 
turned.  "  Do  as  my  father  says,"  she  said.  "  I  shall 
not  be  able  to  keep  you." 

"  I,  too,  belong  to  myself,  mademoiselle,"  replied  the 
girl  with  a  quiet  dignity  equal  to  that  of  her  mistress. 
"  I  cannot  stay  here.  I'll  go  with  you  if  I  may.  But — 
I'll  not  stay  here." 

Richmond,  realizing  that  his  rage  of  the  impotent 
had  once  more  whirled  him  into  an  impossible  situation, 
disappeared  in  the  house.  Before  Beatrice  and  Valen 
tine  reached  the  lodge  the  auto  overtook  them.  The 
chauffeur,  Lery,  swung  the  car  close  in  to  the  footpath 
beside  the  road,  jumped  from  his  seat,  opened  the  door. 

278 


THE    SECOND    FLIGHT 


"  Did  my  father  send  you  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Yes,  mademoiselle." 

When  the  two  women  were  seated — Beatrice  insisted 
on  Valentine's  sitting  by  her — Beatrice  said :  "  I  don't 
believe  Lery." 

Valentine  gave  a  queer,  little  smile. 

"  But,"  continued  Beatrice,  "  father  will  never  make 
any  inquiries." 

"  Lery  understands,"  said  Valentine. 

"  Understands — what?  " 

"  That  you  will  win.     Your  father  adores  you." 

"  You  don't  know,"  said  Beatrice,  shaking  her  head 
in  a  decided  negative.  "  And  I  can't  tell  you." 


XV 


BEATRICE  had  selected  Valentine  as  her  maid  after 
trying  more  than  a  score  of  various  nationalities.  She 
had  selected  her  because  Valentine  was  a  lady,  and  she 
could  not  endure  servility  or  veneer  manners  in  the  close 
relations  that  must  exist  between  mistress  and  maid.  In 
calling  Valentine  a  lady  Beatrice  did  not  mean  that  she 
was  a  "  high-toned  "  lady,  fcr  a  fine  lady,  or  a  fashion 
able  lady,  or  any  of  the  other  qualified  ladies,  but  that 
she  was  just  a  lajfly — well  mannered,  with  delicate  in 
stincts,  intelligent,  simple  and  sincere.  Valentine  acted 
as  Beatrice  liked  to  believe  she  herself  would  act  if  she 
had  to  work  for  her  living  and  happened  to  find  being 
lady's  maid  the  most  convenient  way  to  do  it. 

At  the  Wolcott  Beatrice  registered  beneath  her  own 
name  that  of  Miss  Valentine  Clermont.  When  the  two 
were  in  the  little  inside  suite  Beatrice  took  by  way  of 
making  a  beginning  in  the  direction  of  the  practice  of 
economy,  she  said: 

"  For  the  present,  at  least,  you  are  to  be  my  com 
panion.  I  can't  live  here  alone  or  just  with  a  maid. 

280 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

So,  the  parlor  is  to  be  changed  into  a  bedroom  for 
you." 

"  Very  well,  mademoiselle,"  promptly  acquiesced  the 
intelligent  Valentine,  showing  how  rightly  Beatrice  had 
judged  her. 

"  Miss  Richmond,"  corrected  Beatrice  with  a  smile. 

"  Pardon — certainly,"  said  Valentine. 

"  We  are  rather  cramped  here,"  Beatrice  went  on. 
"  But  I  guess  I'll  be  looking  back  on  this  as  spacious 
luxury  before  long." 

Miss  Clermont  smiled. 

"  Why  do  you  smile,  Miss  Clermont?  " 

"  You  do  not  know  your  father,  Miss  Richmond." 

"  I  assure  you  we  have  parted  finally,"  said  Bea 
trice.  "  If  you  have  any  idea  that  in  following  my 
fortunes  you  are  going  with  a  person  in  the  position  I 
had  until  two  hours  ago,  put  it  out  of  your  mind.  I 
can  pay  your  wages — beg  pardon,  salary  it  is  now — 
through  next  month — perhaps  for  another  month  after 
that.  Then  I  shall  be —  Well,  mine  is  a  precious  small 
income — and  will  be  smaller.  However,  I'll  see  that 
you  get  a  place  soon." 

Miss  Clermont  smiled. 

"  Why  do  you  smile,  Miss  Clermont  ?  Because  you 
don't  believe  me  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Richmond,"  protested  Valentine. 
19 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  If  you're  right  about  your  situation — then  I  shall 
stay  with  you  until  you  are  settled — and,  possibly,  I 
can  help  you.  If  you  are  wrong — then  I  shall  stay  on 
as  your  maid  until  you  marry.  After  that — Monsieur 
Lery  and  I  are  engaged.  When  we  marry  we  shall  go 
into  business  together." 

Beatrice  paused  in  arranging  her  hair,  turned  and, 
half  sitting  on  the  low  bureau,  looked  at  her  compan 
ion  with  the  expression  of  one  who  has  just  given  birth 
to  a  new  and  fascinating  idea.  "  Why  shouldn't  we  go 
into  business — you  and  I?  "  she  said.  "  I'll  have  to  do 
something,"  she  went  on.  "  I  simply  can't  content 
myself  to  live  on — on  what  I'll  have  after  a  few  days 
from  now.  I  love  luxury — nice  surroundings — good 
things  to  eat — beautiful  clothes.  Why  not  dressmak- 
ing?" 

"We  should  get  rich  at  it,"  declared  Miss  Cler- 
mont. 

And  then  it  came  out  that  she  and  Lery  had  been 
planning  a  dressmaking  business.  Miss  Richmond  was 
just  what  they  needed  to  make  it  a  swift  and  stupendous 
success.  They  had  ten  thousand  dollars.  If  Miss 
Richmond  could  put  in  as  much  and  would  be  a  public 
partner  attracting  fashionable  trade,  giving  the  estab 
lishment  eclat  by  wearing  beautiful  dresses  in  fashion 
able  restaurants  or  for  drives  in  the  Avenue,  and  so  on 

282 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

— and  so  on.     "  I  can  put  in  at  least  ten  thousand,"  said 
Beatrice.     "  And  I  have  ideas  about  clothes." 

"  Indeed,  yes,"  assented  Valentine  warmly.  "  You 
have  a  style  of  your  own." 

"  Yes,  I  think  you  and  I  have  got  me  up  rather 
stunningly  these  last  two  years,"  said  Beatrice. 

The  dressmaking  business  was  as  good  as  started 
before  they  had  dinner — at  which  Miss  Richmond  had 
her  companion  sitting  opposite  her.  Miss  Clermont  as 
a  companion  was  a  triumph.  No  one  but  a  French 
woman  could  have  glided  so  easily  from  menial  to  equal. 
"  But  then,  I  knew  she  could,"  thought  Beatrice,  "  the 
instant  I  looked  at  her  hands,  when  she  came  to  try  for 
the  place.  Hands  tell  more  than  faces — and  hers  are 
the  hands  of  a  lady." 

At  noon  the  next  day,  while  Beatrice  and  Valentine 
were  out  walking,  Peter  telephoned,  leaving  word  that 
he  would  call  at  half  past  four.  At  that  hour  Beatrice 
received  him  in  the  hotel  parlor.  He  eyed  her  with  ad 
miring  wonder.  He  expected  to  find  all  sorts  of  signs 
of  her  altered  position — would  not  have  been  surprised 
had  she  already  begun  to  look  dowdy  and  down  at  the 
heel.  Her  radiance  of  spirit,  of  body  and  of  toilet 
struck  him  as  little  less  than  miraculous.  "  You  cer 
tainly  are  a  cool  one,"  said  he.  "  Why,  you  don't  look 
a  bit  upset." 

283 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Never  felt  so  well  in  my  life,"  declared  Beatrice. 
"I  feel  so— so— free!" 

Peter  shook  his  head  warningly.  "  Wait  till  you 
have  had  a  full  dose.  Wait  till  you  really  find  out  what 
you're  up  against." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Oh,  you're  out  of  your  world.  It's  all  very  well 
to  jump  into  the  water  and  swim  for  a  few  minutes — 
just  for  the  fun  of  the  thing.  But  how  about  going  in 
for  being  a  fish  and  living  in  the  water — eh  ?  " 

"  I'd  no  idea  you  could  do  so  well,  Peter,"  said  Bea 
trice.  "  That's  both  wise  and  witty..  Why  didn't  you 
begin  that  sort  of  talk  sooner?  " 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  protested  the  young  man.  "  I'm  not 
such  a  mutt  as  you  thought  me.  No  one  could  be." 

"  Better  and  better,"  cried  Beatrice.  "  First  thing 
you  know  I'll  be  trying  to  steal  you  back  from  Allie." 

Peter  colored  consciously.  He  said  with  a  foolish 
attempt  at  the  offhand :  "  Oh — I  saw  her — at  lunch. 
She  wants  to  come  to  see  you,  but  don't  dare.  Your 
father's  got  her  father  right  where  he  can  put  the 
screws  on  him." 

"  She  might  have  telephoned,"  said  Beatrice,  and 
her  tone  even  more  than  her  look  showed  how  Allie's 
defection  had  hurt,  how  it  was  rankling. 

Peter  looked  depressed.  "  Yes — I  suppose  she 
284 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

might,"  conceded  he.  "  But  don't  be  too  hard  on  her, 
Beatrice.  You  know  how  afraid  we  all  are  of  your 
father." 

"  Fow're  here,"  said  Beatrice  sententiously. 

"  Yes."  Peter  reddened.  "  Hang  it,  I  can't  fake 
with  you.  Fact  is — well — while  I  hope  I'd  have  come 
anyway,  still,  I'd  not  be  so  open  about  it,  I'm  afraid,  if 
I  hadn't  your  father's  consent." 

"  He  told  you  to  come !  " 

"  He  hasn't  given  up,"  said  Peter  with  the  air  of  a 
peddler  undoing  his  pack.  "  Asked  me  if  I  knew  where 
you  were  stopping.  I  said  yes — that  you  told  me.  He 
asked  where.  I  couldn't  think  of  any  side  step,  so  I  let 
out  the  truth.  Any  harm  in  that?" 

"  Not  the  slightest.    I'm  not  hiding  from  anybody." 

"  Then  he  said — just  as  I  was  leaving  him  on  the 
ferry  this  morning :  "  If  you  wish  to  call  on  my  daugh 
ter  and  try  to  bring  her  to  her  right  mind  I've  no  ob 
jection." 

"  And  I've  no  objection,  either,"  said  the  girl,  "  un 
less  you  try  to  bring  me  to  my  right  mind.  That  one 
subject  is  taboo.  You  understand?  " 

Peter  nodded.  "  I  knew  you  meant  it  yesterday. 
I'm  going  ahead  with  Allie.  You  and  I  are  such  old 
friends  that  I  feel  I  can  talk  things  over  with  you. 
You  see,  it's  this  way.  I  want  to  get  married  and  set- 

285 


WHITE   MAGIC 


tied.  We  all  marry  and  settle  young  in  our  family.  I 
can't  have  what  I  want — but  I  can  get  something 
mighty  good.  Allie's  a  trump.  Such  a  comfortable 
sort." 

"  You  couldn't  do  better,"  said  Beatrice  with  more 
warmth  than  she  felt.  For  she  had  her  eyes  open  to 
Allie  now — too  recently  open  for  her  to  be  tolerant  of 
what  were  weaknesses  of  the  same  species  as  Beatrice's 
own,  if  of  a  different  genus. 

"  I'm  not  really  in  love  with  her,"  continued  Poter. 
"  But " 

"  But  that's  of  no  consequence,"  said  Beatrice. 
"  You're  one  of  the  sort  that  thinks  whatever  belongs  to 
them  is  the  grandest  ever.  You'll  soon  be  crazy  about 
her." 

"  And  she'll  always  look  well,  too.  She's  the  image 
of  her  mother,  and  the  way  to  test  a  girl's  staying  qual 
ity  is  to  see  how  her  mother  holds  together.  Yes,  Allie's 
good  for  the  whole  run — right  into  the  last  quarter." 

Beatrice  and  Peter  went  into  the  restaurant  and  in 
a  quiet  corner  sat  down  to  the  sociability  of  tea. 
"  Hanky,"  said  she,  "  I  am  going  to  treat  you  as  a 
friend.  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  attend  to  some  mat 
ters  for  me  which  you  must  promise  me  never  to  speak 
of." 

Hanky  showed  that  he  was  as  highly  flattered  as 
286 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

the  next  young  man  would  be  by  marks  of  intimacy  and 
confidence  from  a  pretty  and  superior  young  woman. 
"  You  can  count  on  me- — for  anything  I  feel  I've  the 
right  to  do."  said  he.  "  But,  whether  I  do  it  or  not, 
I'll  keep  my  mouth  shut." 

Beatrice  poured  the  tea  in  reflective  silence.  Not 
until  she  had  tasted  her  own  cup  did  she  venture  to 
begin  expressing  the  thoughts  she  had  been  arranging. 
"  Roger  Wade  has  about  forty  thousand  dollars  in 
vested  in  the  bonds  of  the  Wauchong  Railway." 

Peter  leaned  back  and  gave  a  low  whistle.  He  shook 
his  head  and  repeated  the  whistle. 

"  I  see  you  understand." 

"  I  begin  to,"  said  Peter. 

Looking  down  at  her  plate  and  speaking  somewhat 
nervously  and  hurriedly  the  girl  went  on : 

"  I  want  you — through  your  broker  or  banker  or 
however  you  please — I  want  you  to  buy  those  bonds  at 
what  their  market  price  was  before  the  road  went  into 
the  hands  of  a  receiver.  I  think  it  will  take  about  fifty 
thousand  dollars.  But  buy  them  if  it  costs  a  hundred 
thousand.  I  can't  go  higher  than  that." 

Hesitatingly  she  lifted  her  eyes.  Peter  was  sitting 
back  in  his  chair  regarding  her  with  an  expression  it 
makes  any  human  being  proud  to  have  caused  in  an 
other's  face. 

287 


WHITE   MAGIC 


A  little  color  came  into  the  girl's  cheeks  and  into 
her  eyes  a  look  of  gratitude  for  the  compliment  and  of 
pleasure  in  it.  She  went  on: 

"You  understand,  no  one  must  know — must  have 
the  ghost  of  a  suspicion.  Especially  Roger  Wade.  But 
no  one — no  one." 

Peter  busied  himself  at  lighting  the  cigarette  he 
selected  with  care  from  the  dozen  in  the  huge  gold  case 
he  carried  in  the  inside  pocket  of  his  sack  coat. 

"  Your  agent,"  continued  the  girl,  as  if  laying  be 
fore  him  a  carefully  thought-out  plan,  "  can  say  he 
represents  some  men  who  are  getting  ready  to  fight  to 
get  control  of  the  road." 

"  I  didn't  know  you  knew  anything  about  business," 
said  Peter  huskily,  just  for  something  to  say. 

"  A  little,"  said  Beatrice,  who,  in  fact,  was  her  fa 
ther's  own  daughter — though,  of  course,  she  was  not 
foolish  enough  to  have  failed  to  use  to  its  uttermost 
value  the  favorite  feminine  pretense  of  being  hopelessly 
incapable  when  it  came  to  matters  like  business.  "  Will 
you  do  it  ?  " 

"  How  much'll  you  have  left?  "  said  Peter. 

"  Plenty,"  Beatrice  assured  him.     "  Plenty." 

"  I  know  better." 

She  made  an  impatient  gesture.  "  I'll  have  more 
than  enough  to  carry  out  my  plans." 

288 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

"  There's  no  reason  on  earth  why  you  should  do 
this,"  protested  he.  "  You " 

"  Drop  it.  Peter,"  said  she  with  a  touch  of  her  old 
imperiousness — of  her  father's  intolerance  of  objection 
from  inferior  minds.  "  I  know  what  I'm  about.  Roger 
Wade  is  being  stripped  of  all  he  has  through  no  fault 
of  his — through  my  folly.  I  got  him  into  the  scrape — 
a  scrape  he  wanted  to  have  nothing  to  do  with.  It's  up 
to  me  to  get  him  out." 

"  He  had  no  business  to  come  fooling  round  you !  " 

"  He  didn't,  Peter,"  said  the  girl  with  convincing 
candor.  "  He —  I  see  I've  got  to  tell  you.  I  pro 
posed  to  him,  and  he  refused  me." 

66  You  did— that!" 

Beatrice  blushed  and  laughed.  "  Oh,  I  made  an 
idict  of  myself.  I  thought  he  was  hanging  back  be 
cause  he  was  awed — because  father  was  rich — and  all 
that." 

Peter  narrowed  his  eyelids  and  screwed  up  his 
mouth  in  an  attempt  to  look  acute.  "  He's  working 
some  sly  dodge.  Mark  my  word,  some  sly  dodge." 
And  he  wagged  his  head  wisely. 

"  I  wish  he  were !  "  sighed  Beatrice..  "  Because  he 
liked  me  I  thought  he — cared.  You  see,  Peter,  I'm 
telling  you  everything.  Will  you  do  what  I  ask?  " 

Peter  settled  deeper  in  his  chair.  "  I'd  like  to — I 
289 


WHITE   MAGIC 


want  to — but — "  At  the  beginnings  of  disappointment 
and  disdain  in  her  expression  he  straightened,  flushed. 
"Yes,  by  gad,  I  will  doit!" 

"  Why  did  you  hesitate?  " 

"  I  didn't." 

Beatrice  looked  at  him  doubtfully;  suddenly  she 
realized.  "You  fear  father'll  find  out  you  did  it?  I 
hadn't  thought  of  that.  No — you  mustn't,  Hanky. 
I'll  get  some  one  else." 

"  You've  got  to  let  me  do  it,"  insisted  he.  "  Any 
one  who  didn't  know  all  the  circumstances  would  make 
a  mess  of  it.  I  want  to  do  it.  And  it  isn't  much  of 
a  risk." 

The  event  was  that  she  yielded.  Toward  noon  the 
next  day  he  telephoned  that  he  had  the  bonds — had 
paid  forty-one  thousand  dollars  for  them  —  exactly. 
"  I've  got  them  here  at  my  house.  I  can  bring  them  to 
you  this  afternoon  if  you  like." 

"Do,"  said  Beatrice. 

And  at  four  he  came  with  a  parcel.  Her  eyes 
brightened  at  sight  of  it.  "  I,  too,  have  a  package," 
said  she. 

"So  I  see.    What  is  it?" 

"  Your   forty-one  thousand  in  Governments." 

"  But  Governments  are  worth  more." 

The  girl  laughed.  "  Not  a  cent.  I  didn't  say  forty- 
290 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

one  thousand  par.     I  had  the  exact  calculation  made  at 
the  bank." 

"  What  an  ass  I  am,  to  forget  you  were  Daniel 
Richmond's  daughter." 

"  Give  me  my  railway  bonds." 

The  exchange  was  made,  he  pretending  that  he  did 
not  dare  release  his  hold  on  his  package  until  she  had 
given  him  a  hold  on  hers.  The  waiters,  idle  in  the  res 
taurant  at  that  hour,  grinned  at  the  sight  of  so  much 
gayety  in  two  such  superior-looking,  young  people. 
And  it  certainly  did  look  like  a  love  affair — an  engage 
ment.  Nor  is  it  surprising  that  Peter,  full  of  the  sense 
of  having  done  her  quite  a  favor  and  not  without  risk 
to  himself,  should  have  again  become  hopeful  that  this 
girl — "  such  a  stunner — and  so  dead  square,  too  " 
might  be  thinking  more  favorably  of  him. 

"  Now  that  these  things  are  straightened  out,  Bea 
trice,"  said  he,  "  and  as  you've  got  over  your  notions 
about  Wade — why  not  give  me  a  chance?" 

She  laughed.     "  Allie's  affianced !  "  mocked  she. 

"  I've  told  you  that " 

"  But,"  interrupted  she,  "  I  never  told  you  that  I 
was — was  cured — of  Roger  Wade." 

"  But  you  are.     And  he's  off  your  conscience." 

Beatrice's  eyes  had  an  expression  that  sent  a  pang 
— and  a  thrill,  too — through  him.  "  Peter — I  love 

291 


WHITE   MAGIC 


him,"  she  said  with  quiet  intensity — Dan  Richmond  in 
tensity.  "  And  I  think  you  know  now  what  that  means 
with  me." 

He  paled,  stared  at  his  cup.  "  I  wish  to  God  I 
didn't,"  he  muttered. 

"  Now,  Peter,  you  don't  mean  that  and  you  know 
it.  The  only  reason  you  keep  after  me  is  because 
you've  always  been  used  to  having  your  own  way  and 
you  hate  to  be  baffled." 

"  That's  all  the  reason  you  stick  on  after  Wade," 
retorted  he. 

She  laughed.  "  I'll  admit  that  has  something  to 
do  with  it.  But  not  all,  Hanky.  And  the  other  part's 
the  important  part." 

"  You  must  know  he's  after  your  money,"  said  he, 
looking  down  sourly. 

66  And  you  ?  "  retorted  she. 

"Oh,  I,"  said  he  with  Vanderkief  hauteur.  "I 
fancy  I'm  above  suspicion." 

66  Father  says  that  the  people  who  do  the  queerest 
tricks  are  the  ones  that're  above  suspicion — and  take 
advantage  of  it.  My,  but  you're  red,  Hanky.  And 
while  we're  suspecting —  Did  you  get  those  bonds  for 
me  just  because  you 

"  Don't  say  that,  Beatrice !  "  he  cried.  "  Honest,  I 
didn't.  I  wasn't  trying  to  collect." 

292 


WADE'S   LOST   FORTUNE 

"  I  believe  you,"  said  she.  "  Please  don't  do  any 
thing  to  make  me  doubt." 

"  I  won't.  I  throw  up  the  sponge.  I'll  not  annoy 
you  any  more." 

"You'll  be  friends?" 

"  I'd  hate  to  lose  your  friendship,"  said  he  with  his 
slow,  heavy  earnestness.  "  It's  the  tiling  I've  got 
that's  most  worth  while." 


XVI 

PETER    CALLS    ON    ROGER 

BEATRICE  had  carefully  avoided  learning  anything 
at  all  about  the  Wauchong  Railway  before  investing 
nearly  half  her  fortune  in  its  bonds.  She  wished  to 
spare  herself  the  temptation  to  hesitate;  and  she  was 
too  fond  of  money  as  a  means,  too  alive  to  its  value, 
too  well  trained  in  the  matter  of  foolish  investments, 
to  trust  her  newly  developed  virtue  far.  But  now  that 
the  thing  was  done  she  made  thorough  inquiry  into  the 
affairs  of  the  railway.  It  did  a  losing  passenger  busi 
ness  ;  it  had  made  its  money — very  satisfactory  earn 
ings — by  reason  of  its  northern  terminal  being  in  a 
group  of  rich  coal  mines.  Her  father  ruined  the 
road  by  so  juggling  traffic  agreements  with  the  coal 
companies  that  the  Wauchong's  whole  paying  freight 
business  was  at  a  stroke  transferred  to  another  road. 
The  bonds  were  next  to  worthless.  On  the  face  of  the 
facts  she  had  spent  forty-one  thousand  dollars  for  a 
few  ounces  of  waste  paper. 

She  was  glad  to  find,  on  searching  her  heart,  that 
she  had  not  the  faintest  feeling  of  regret  for  her  action. 

294 


PETER    CALLS   ON   ROGER 

It  gave  her  a  gratifying  opinion  of  herself  to  discover 
that,  on  the  contrary,  she  regarded  her  investment  with 
satisfaction  and  pride.  But  these  emotions  did  not  clash, 
with  a  strong  desire  to  recover  the  lost  forty-one  thou 
sand,  if  that  could  be  brought  about.  She  gave  the 
matter  anxious  and  intelligent  thought.  The  only  plan 
that  came  to  her  and  seemed  at  all  practicable  was  to 
let  it  leak  out  in  Wall  Street  that  a  big  block  of  the 
bonds  had  been  taken  at  more  than  par  by  Daniel  Rich 
mond's  daughter  after  the  wiping  out  of  the  road's  rev 
enues.  This  news  would  probably  boom  the  bonds  and 
stocks  if  sent  out  adroitly.  But  Beatrice  decided 
against  the  scheme;  she  could  not  forget  the  losses  to 
the  innocent  it  would  involve.  Perhaps  the  time  had 
been — and  not  so  very  long  ago,  either — when  this 
view  of  the  affair  would  not  have  occurred  to  her.  But 
since  then  she  had  experienced,  had  suffered,  had 
learned.  With  a  sigh  she  put  the  bundle  of  bonds  away 
in  her  safety-deposit  box  and  entered  their  cost  to  profit 
and  loss.  Her  total  income  was  now  reduced  to  just 
under  twenty-seven  hundred  a  year.  "  And  I  need  at 
least  that  many  thousand,"  thought  she.  "  Let  us  see 
what  this  dressmaking  scheme  has  in  it." 

And  she  proceeded  to  revolve  Valentine's  project 
with  a  deliberate,  pessimistic,  flaw-seeing  scrutiny  that 
would  have  commanded  the  admiration  of  her  father 

295    . 


WHITE   MAGIC 


and  would  have  increased  his  amazement  how  one  so 
strong  in  the  head  could  be  so  weak  in  the  heart.  She 
questioned  and  cross-questioned  Valentine,  who,  for  all 
her  cleverness,  had  far  too  much  of  the  optimist  in  her 
composition.  Beatrice  had  learned  from  her  father 
that  hope,  an  invaluable  ally  when  the  struggle  is  on, 
is  an  enemy,  the  worst  of  enemies — a  traitor  and  a  de 
stroyer — if  admitted  to  the  counsels  when  the  struggle 
is  planning.  So,  she  took  the  worst  possible  view  of 
every  phase  of  the  proposed  enterprise,  and  insisted 
that  all  calculation  be  based  upon  the  theory  that  they 
would  lose  money  from  the  start,  would  lose  heavily, 
must  prepare  themselves  to  hold  out  for  the  longest 
possible  period  against  not  only  bad  business,  but  also 
bad  luck. 

Meanwhile,  Peter  was  engaged  in  strenuous  com 
bat  with  a  generous  impulse  which  seemed  to  him  as  out 
of  place  in  his  mind  as  an  eaglet  in  the  brood  of  a  hen. 
But  the  impulse  would  not  expel;  it  lingered  obsti 
nately,  fascinating  him  as  the  idea  of  doing  something 
unconventional  sometimes  seizes  upon  and  obsesses  a 
primly  conventional  woman.  Finally,  it  fairly  dragged 
him  into  a  kind  of  rake's  progress  of  generosity — for 
good  has  its  rapid  road  no  less  than  evil.  It  put  him 
alone  in  his  speediest  auto  and,  in  the  teeth  of  his  dread 
of  being  seen  by  Richmond  or  by  some  one  who  would 

296 


PETER    CALLS    ON   ROGER 

tell  Richmond,  drove  him  along  the  dusty  highways  of 
Northern  New  Jersey  until  he  came  to  Deer  Spring — 
to  a  charming  old  farmhouse  in  its  farthermost  out 
skirts. 

He  went  up  the  flowery  lane  to  the  old-fashioned 
porch,  so  cool,  so  quiet,  so  restful,  behind  its  odorous 
veils  of  blooming  creepers.  A  little  exercise  with  the 
big  brass  dragon's  head  that  had  served  as  knocker  for 
the  best  part  of  a  century,  and  a  pleasant-looking  old 
woman  came  round  the  corner  of  the  house,  wiping  her 
hands  on  her  kitchen  apron.  Said  Peter: 

"Is  Mr.  Wade  at  home?" 

"Not  just  now,"  replied  she,  her  head  thrown  far 
back  that  she  might  inspect  him  through  the  spectacles 
on  the  end  of  her  long,  thin  nose.  "  I  reckon  most  like 
ly  he's  up  to  the  studio." 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  You  follow  the  path  back  of  the  house — through 
the  woods  and  the  hollow,  then  up  the  round-top  hill. 
You'll  have  to  walk.  It's  a  right  smart  piece — about  a 
mile  and  a  half." 

"  Is  there  any  place  where  I  could  " — Peter  stopped 
and  blushed;  he  had  caught  himself  just  in  time  to 
prevent  the  word  "  hide  "  from  slipping  out — "  where 
I  could  put  my  machine?  " 

"  There's  the  shed  behind  the  house." 
20  297 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Thank  you."  And  he  sprang  away  to  get  the 
auto  tucked  out  of  sight. 

When  this  was  accomplished  his  mind  became  some 
what  easier  and  he  set  out  for  the  studio.  He  got  on 
fairly  well  with  himself — until  he  stood  face  to  face 
with  the  big  artist.  Wade  regarded  him  inscrutably : 
Peter  regarded  Wade  with  an  expression  which,  in  a 
woman,  would  have  betokened  an  impending  fit  of  hys 
teria. 

"You  don't  remember  me,  Mr.  Wade?"  said  he. 

"  I  remember  you  perfectly,"  Roger  replied. 

"  I — I  called  on  a  matter  of — that  is,  not  exactly 
of — well — a  matter." 

"  Will  you  come  in  ?  "  said  Roger,  standing  aside. 

"  Thank  you— I'll  be  glad  to,"  was  Peter's  eager 
reply. 

Within,  his  eyes  made  for  a  covered  canvas'  on  an 
easel  in  the  middle  of  the  big  room.  "  Is  that  by  any 
chance  Mr.  Richmond's  picture  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Mr.  Richmond's  picture  ?  "  said  Roger.  "  I  know 
nothing  of  any  picture  of  Mr.  Richmond." 

"  For  Mr.  Richmond." 

"  Neither  of  nor  for." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  stammered  Peter.  "  I 
rather  hoped  you'd  let  me  have  a  look  at  it.  You  know, 
I  was  engaged  to  Miss  Richmond." 

298 


PETER    CALLS   ON  ROGER 

Roger  continued  in  his  waiting  attitude.  Peter 
felt  himself  dwindling  before  this  large,  dark  calm.  He 
shifted  uneasily  from  leg  to  leg,  opened  and  shut  his 
mouth  several  times,  finally  burst  out :  "  I  say,  what  an 
ass  you  must  think  me."  And  he  gave  Roger  an  hon 
est,  pathetic  look  of  appeal — an  ingenuous  plea  for 
mercy. 

The  large,  dark  calm  was  rippled  by  a  smile — a 
very  human  smile.  It  made  young  Peter  instantly  feel 
that  he  was  talking  with  a  young  human  being  just  like 
himself. 

"  I  did  want  to  look  at  the  picture,"  said  he.  "  You 
know  the  one  I  mean — the  picture  of  her." 

Roger's  gaze  wavered  a  little,  steadied.  "  I'm 
sorry — but  it's  not  finished,"  said  he. 

"  Oh — I  see.  And,  naturally,  you  do  not  want  any 
body  to  look  at  it.  Well — I'll  come  another  time — if 
I  may." 

Roger  bowed. 

Peter  was  desperate.  He  puffed  furiously  at  his 
cigarette,  finally  burst  out :  "  Did  you  know  that  Miss 
Richmond  and  her  father  had  quarreled  ?  " 

"  Really?  "  said  Roger  politely,  and  so  far  as  Peter 
could  judge  the  news  interested  him  only  to  the  degree 
more  discouraging  than  no  interest  at  all. 

''  Yes — they've  quarreled — and  she's  left  home — is 
299 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Jiving  alone  at  a  hotel  in  New  York — says  she's  never 
going  back." 

Peter  was  not  sure,  but  he  thought  he  saw  a  some 
thing  or  other  flash  across  the  artist's  face,  like  a  huge, 
swift-swimming  fish  near  the  surface  of  opaque  water. 
He  felt  encouraged  to  go  on. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you.  Miss  Richmond  and 
I  were  engaged.  It's  been  broken  off.  Her  father  is 
furious.  She's  in  love  with  another  man."  Peter 
glanced  at  Roger's  inscrutable  eyes,  blushed,  glanced 
down  again.  "  She  has  sacrificed  everything  for  this 
other  man.  It's  really  stunning,  the  way  she  did  it — 
and  a  lot  more  I  can't  tell  you.  And  I  do  believe  she'll 
stick — will  not  go  back — though  she's  got  next  to 
nothing.  You  know  her — know  what  a  fine  girl  she  is." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Roger  cordially. 

"  She's  at  the  Wolcott — if  you  care  to  call.  I 
guess  she's  rather  lonely,  as  all  her  old  pals  are  shying 
off.  You  see,  her  father's  a  deadly  dangerous  sort — 
liable  to  do  up  anybody  who  sided  with  her." 

Roger,  his  gaze  upon  a  far,  unseen  country,  was 
pale  and  somber. 

"  I  do  hope  you'll  look  in  on  her,  Wade,"  said  Peter. 
"  She'd  appreciate  it." 

Wade's  eyes  slowly  turned  with  his  returning 
thoughts  until  they  centered  upon  the  eyes  of  young 

300 


PETER   CALLS   ON   ROGER 

Vanderkief.  Suddenly  Roger's  face  was  illuminated  by 
that  splendid  smile  of  his.  He  grasped  Peter  by  the 
hand.  "  I'm  glad  to  know  you,"  said  he.  "  And — I 
beg  your  pardon  —  for  things  I've  thought  about 
you." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  cried  Peter.  "  I'm  not  a 
dog  in  the  manger,  you  know.  And  I  tell  you  she's 
got  a  stiff  stretch  ahead  of  her — downright  rough.  Of 
course  she's  no  fool.  Still,  it  wouldn't  be  possible  for 
any  woman  of  her  age  and  her  bringing  up  to  realize 
what  she  was  bumping  into,  dropping  out  of  her  class, 
sacking  her  father  and  trying  to  scratch  along  on 
worse  than  nothing.  When  you've  got  tastes  a  little 
money's  only  an  aggravation.  Especially  for  her  sort 
of  woman.  Won't  you  try  one  of  my  cigarettes  ?  " 

"  Delighted,"  said  Roger,  taking  one. 

"  Well,  I  must  move  on,"  proceeded  Peter.  "  You 
don't  mind  my  butting  iru?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  It  was  a  fine  friendly — decent 
thing  to  do.  .  .  .  Would  you  like  to  see  the  picture?  " 

And  without  giving  Peter  time  to  reply,  or  himself 
a  chance  to  repent  the  impulse,  he  flung  aside  the  drap 
ery  over  the  easel  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  He  and 
Peter  gazed  in  silence.  It  was  a  glorious  vision  of 
morning  in  the  springtime.  Upon  lake  and  cataract, 
upon  tree  and  bush  and  stone,  sparkled  the  radiance 

301 


WHITE  MAGIC 


of  the  birthday  of  summer.  That  radiance  seemed  to 
come  from  the  figure  of  a  young  girl  in  a  canoe,  her 
paddle  poised  for  the  stroke — an  attitude  of  exquisite 
grace,  a  figure  alive  in  every  line  of  flesh  and  drapery 
— a  face  shedding  the  soft  luster  of  the  bright  hopes 
and  dreams  and  joys  that  are  summed  up  in  the  thrill 
ing  word,  youth.  Roger  was  right  in  thinking  it 
his  best  work,  his  best  expression  of  that  intense 
joy  of  life  which  he  was  ever  striving  to  put  upon 
canvas. 

Peter  gave  a  long,  furtive  sigh.  "  Yes,"  he  mut 
tered,  "  she  can  look  like  that."  He  had  seen  her  look 
just  so  once — when  she  told  him  she  loved  the  artist  and 
would  never  change.  Queer,  how  anyone  could  so  love 
that  she  got  happiness  out  of  giving  love,  even  though 
it  was  unreturned.  Queer — yet,  there  it  was.  Roger, 
with  a  sudden  gesture,  recovered  the  canvas.  Peter 
stood  motionless,  staring  at  where  the  picture  had  been 
— it  was  still  there  for  him.  He  roused  himself,  looked 
at  the  painter  with  frank  admiration  and  respect. 
"  That's  worth  while!  "  said  he.  "  No  wonder  she " 

Roger's  frown  checked  him.  But  only  for  a  mo 
ment  ;  then  he  went  on,  in  an  awed  undertone :  "  She's 
more  of  a — a  person  than  anyone  I  ever  saw.  If  she'd 
let  me  I'd  be  crazy  about  her.  As  it  is,  while  I  know  I 
can  never  get  her,  everything's  stopped  short  with  me 

302 


PETER    CALLS    ON   ROGER 

until  I'm  sure  she's  out  of  reach — married  to  some  one 
else.  I'm  a  better  man  for  having  known  her,  for  hav 
ing  loved  her." 

Roger  was  standing  with  arms  folded  upon  his 
broad  chest — powerful  arms  bare  to  the  elbow.  He 
seemed  lost  in  reverie. 

"  Thank  you  for  showing  me  that,"  said  Peter 
gratefully  and  humbly.  "  I'd  wish  to  own  it  if  it  wasn't 
that — well,  I'd  never  be  able  to  get  any  peace  of  mind 
if  I  had  it  about.  I'd  stare  at  it  till  I  went  crazy." 

Roger  flushed  a  significant,  a  guilty  deep  red. 

Peter  got  himself  together  with  a  shake  of  his  big 
frame.  "  I'm -off,  now.  You'll  not  say  anything  about 
my  having  called — not  to  her  or  anyone?  " 

"  I  do  not  see  anyone,"  said  Roger  in  a  constrained 
voice. 

"  But  you'll  surety — "  began  Peter,  but  he  halted 
on  the  threshold  of  impertinence.  "  Well — I  hope 
you'll  look  in  at  the  Wolcott  and  cheer  her  up.  Good- 
by.  Thank  you  again." 

The  young  men  shook  hands  with  the  friendliness 
of  intimacy.  Roger  went  with  Peter  to  the  door,  where 
they  shook  hands  again.  As  Peter  was  turning  away 
he  happened  to  glance  down  into  the  woods  to  the  left. 
There,  beating  a  hasty,  not  to  say  undignified  retreat, 
was  Daniel  Richmond! 

303 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"Now  what  do  you  think  of  that?"  cried  Peter. 
"  What  the  devil  is  he  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Roger  indifferently. 

"  No  doubt  he  recognized  me,"  Peter  went  on. 
"  He's  got  me  scared  to  a  panic — for  fear  he'll  half 
ruin  me — just  out  of  a  general  insanity  of  meanness. 
If  he  asks  you  what  I  was  doing  here  say  I  came  to 
buy  the  picture.  You  don't  know  how  much  trouble 
he  could  make  for  me." 

"  I'll  probably  not  see  him." 

"  Do — for  her  sake,  do,"  urged  Peter.  "  Be  civil 
to  him.  Try  to  soften  him  down.  You  ought  to  do  it 
for  her — honest,  you  ought." 

"  That's  true,"  said  Roger  gravely. 

Peter  departed.  Roger  stayed  on  in  the  doorway. 
Presently  Richmond  reappeared,  making  his  way 
slowly  up  the  steep  toward  the  studio.  He  arrived 
much  out  of  breath,  but  contrived  to  put  unmistakable 
politeness  into  his  jerky  tones  as  he  gasped:  "Good 
afternoon,  Mr.  Wade." 

"  How  d'ye  do,  Mr.  Richmond?  "  was  Roger's  civil 
rejoinder.  His  talk  with  Peter  had  put  him  in  a  frame 
of  mind  to  bear  and  forbear,  to  do  whatever  he  could 
toward  ending  the  quarrel  between  father  and  daughter. 

"  I'd  be  greatly  obliged — for  a  few — minutes  of 
your  time,"  said  Richmond  between  breaths. 

304 


PETES    CALLS   ON   ROGEB 

He  looked  old  and  worn  and  tired.  Violent  pas 
sions,  especially  violent  temper,  freely  indulged,  had 
played  their  wonted  havoc.  And  these  eroding  emo 
tions  had  deepened  seam  and  gutter  painfully.  There 
had  now  appeared  the  gauntness  in  eye  socket  and 
under  jawbone,  about  the  saddest  of  the  forewarnings 
of  decrepitude  and  death  that  show  in  the  human  coun 
tenance  with  advancing  age.  Roger  pitied  him,  this 
really  superior  man  who  had  given  his  life  furiously  to 
plowing  arid  golden  sands  and  was  reaping  ill  health 
and  unhappiness  as  his  harvest.  "  Come  in,"  said 
Roger. 

When  they  were  seated  in  the  cool,  airy  workroom 
and  had  lighted,  Richmond  a  cigar,  Roger  his  pipe, 
Richmond  glanced  at  the  covered  picture  and  said :  "  Is 
that  it?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  Roger,  not  in  a  tone  that  invited 
further  conversation  along  those  lines. 

"  I've  come  to  see  you  about  it,"  persisted  Beatrice's 
father,  apparently  undiscouraged. 

"  I  do  not  care  to  discuss  it,"  said  Roger. 

"  It  is  a  picture  of  my  daughter — painted  for " 

"  It  is  not  a  picture  of  your  daughter,"  interrupted 
Roger,  "  and  it  was  painted  for  my  own  amusement." 

"  My  wife  gave  you  the  commission,  with  the  idea 
of  a  surprise  for  me." 

305 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  was  silenced. 

"  So,"  Richmond  went  on,  "  the  picture  belongs 
to  us." 

"  No,"  said  Roger  quietly.  "  I  purpose  to  keep 
it." 

"  You  certainly  have  a  strange  way  of  doing  busi 
ness,"  said  Richmond  with  resolute  amiability. 

"  I  don't  do  business,"  replied  Roger. 

Richmond  waved  his  hand.  "  Oh — call  it  what  you 
like.  Artists  paint  pictures  for  money." 

"  I  don't  know  about  others,"  said  Roger.  "  But 
I  paint  for  my  own  amusement.  And  of  my  work  I 
sell  enough  to  enable  me  to  live." 

"  Very  fine — very  fine,"  said  Richmond,  in  the  tone 
of  a  man  who  doesn't  believe  a  word  of  it,  but  politely 
wishes  to  seem  impressed.  "  I  saw  from  the  beginning 
of  our  acquaintance  that  you  were  an  unusual  man. 
I've  thought  about  you  a  great  deal  " — with  a  sly  smile 
—"  naturally." 

Roger  made  a  slight  inclination  of  his  head. 

"  I  owe  you  an  apology  for  the  way  I  acted  the 
other  day.  And  I  make  it.  I  lost  my  temper — a  bad 
habit  I  have." 

"  Yes,  it  is  a  bad  habit,"  said  Roger  dryly.  "  A 
particularly  bad  one  for  a  man  in  your  position,  I 
should  say." 

306 


PETER    CALLS    ON   ROGER 

"  How  in  my  position  ?  "  inquired  Richmond,  sur 
prised. 

"  Oh,  an  independent  man  like  me,  who  asks  noth 
ing  of  anybody,  can  afford  that  sort  of  thing.  But 
you,  who  are  dependent  upon  others  for  the  success  of 
your  plans — that's  very  different." 

"  Um,"  grunted  Richmond,  little  pleased  but  much 
struck  by  this  new  view  of  him  as  slave,  not  master. 
"  Um."  A  long  pause,  with  Richmond  the  more  em 
barrassed  because  Roger's  silence  seemed  natural  and 
easy,  like  that  of  a  statue  or  of  a  man  alone.  "  I  also 
— I  also  wish  to  say,"  Richmond  resumed,  "  that  on 
thinking  the  matter  over  I  feel  I  did  you  an  injustice 
in  believing  you — in  accusing  you — "  He  could  not 
find  a  satisfactory  word  frame  for  his  idea. 

"  In  suspecting  I  was  after  your  daughter  and 
your  money?  "  suggested  Roger  with  an  amused,  ironic 
twinkle. 

"  Something  like  that.  But,  Mr.  Wade,  you  are  a 
man  of  the  world.  You  can't  wonder  at  my  having 
such  an  idea." 

66  Not  in  the  least,"  assented  Roger. 

"  At  the  same  time  I  do  not  blame  you  for  being 
angry." 

Roger  smiled.  "  But,  my  dear  sir,  I  was  not  angry. 
I  didn't  in  the  least  care  what  you  thought.  Even  if 

307 


WHITE   MAGIC 


you  had  succeeded  in  your  vicious  little  scheme  for 
robbing  me  of  my  competence,  I  still  couldn't  have  been 
angry.  It  is  so  easy  for  a  man  to  make  a  generous 
living  if  he  happens  not  to  have  burdened  himself  with 
expensive  tastes." 

"  That  matter  of  the  railway  bonds — it  will  be  ad 
justed  at  once,  Mr.  Wade.  I  was  sorry  the  exigencies 
of  a  large  operation  forced  me  to — to 

In  his  indignation  Roger  forgot  the  resolutions 
Peter  had  soothed  and  softened  him  into  making.  With 
his  curtest  accent  he  said :  "  What  you  did  was  con 
temptible  enough.  Why  make  it  worse  by  lying?  " 

Richmond  sprang  to  his  feet.  Roger  rose  tower- 
ingly,  in  his  face  a  plain  hope  that  his  guest  was  about 
to  depart.  Richmond  sat  down  again.  "  You  have 
me  at  your  mercy,"  cried  he  with  a  ludicrous  mingling 
of  attempt  at  politeness  and  frantic  rage. 

"  I?  "  said  Roger,  laughing.  "  Oh,  no.  Neither  of 
us  can  do  the  other  any  harm.  I  wouldn't  if  I  could. 
You  couldn't  if  you  would.  Don't  you  think  we  have 
had  about  enough  of  each  other  ?  " 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you,"  said  Richmond 
sullenly. 

Roger  hesitated,  seated  himself.  There  was  a  look 
in  his  visitor's  eyes — a  look  of  misery — that  touched 
his  heart. 

308 


PETER   CALLS   ON   EOGER 

"  Mr.  Wade,"  Richmond  began  again  after  a  brief 
silence,  "  I  am  a  man  of  very  strong  affections — very 
strong.  Circumstances  have  concentrated  them  all  on 
one  person,  my  daughter  Beatrice.  They  say  every 
one  is  a  fool  in  at  least  one  way.  I  am  a  fool  about 
her." 

Wade,  inscrutable,  was  gazing  at  the  drape  over  his 
painting. 

"  But,"  Richmond  went  on,  "  if  she  married  against 
my  will,  much  as  I  love  her,  foolish  as  I  am  about  her, 
I  would  cut  her  off  relentlessly." 

"  Then  you  don't  love  her,"  said  Roger.  "  If  you 
did  you'd  insist  on  her  freely  choosing  the  man  she  is 
to  live  with,  the  man  who  is  to  be  the  father  of  her 
children." 

"  Our  ideas  differ  there,"  said  Richmond  stiffly. 

"  I  am  not  surprised  that  she  has  left  you,"  pur 
sued  Roger.  "  You  have  made  her  realize  that  you 
don't  love  her.  And  from  what  I  know  of  her  I  doubt 
if  you  will  ever  get  her  back  until  you  change  your 
notions  of  what  loving  means." 

Suspicion  was  once  more  sparkling  in  Richmond's 
wicked  eyes.  "  You  may  be  sure  I'll  not  change,  Mr. 
Wade,"  said  he  with  a  peculiarity  of  emphasis  which 
even  the  simple-minded  Roger  could  not  fail  to  under 
stand. 

309 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  laughed  heartily.  "  At  it  again !  "  cried  he. 
"  Really,  you  are  very  amusing." 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,"  snapped  Richmond,  "  I  want 
you  to  know  that  I  will  never  take  her  back — never! — 
until  I  am  sure  she  has  given  you  up.  You  may  stake 
your  life  on  that,  sir.  When  I  put  my  hand  to  the 
plough  I  do  not  turn  back." 

Roger  leaned  toward  the  unhappy  man  distracted 
by  his  own  torturings  of  himself.  "  Will  you  believe 
me,  sir,"  said  he  earnestly,  "  when  I  say  I  am  deeply 
sorry  that  I  have  been  the  innocent  cause  of  a  breach 
between  you  and  your  daughter.  Perhaps  it  is  just 
as  well  that  she  has  gotten  away  from  you.  It  may 
result  in  her  developing  into  the  really  fine  person  God 
intended  her  to  be.  Still,  I  wish  to  do  all  I  can  to  heal 
the  breach." 

"  That  sounds  like  a  man,  Mr.  Wade !  "  cried  Rich 
mond,  all  eagerness. 

"  I've  been  putting  up  with  you  this  afternoon," 
pursued  Roger,  apparently  not  much  impressed  by  this 
certificate  of  his  virtue,  "  because  I  hoped  to  do  some 
thing  toward  ending  the  quarrel  between  you  two." 

"  You  can  end  it,"  interrupted  Richmond.  "  You 
can  end  it  at  once." 

"  Tell  me  how,  and  I'll  do  it,"  said  Roger. 

"  She  believes  you  wish  to  marry  her." 
310 


PETER    CALLS   ON   ROGER 

"  I  am  confident  she  never  told  you  anything  like 
that." 

"  She  thinks  you're  afraid  to  marry  her  unless  she 
brought  the  money  to  keep  her  in  the  style  she's  been 
used  to." 

"  Impossible,"  said  Roger. 

"  She  tells  me  you  refused  her.  But  she  still 
hopes." 

Roger  had  become  red  and  awkward.  "  Your 
daughter  is  something  of  a  coquette,"  he  stammered. 
"  But  I  assure  you  you  are  wrong  in  thinking  she — 
It's  impossible  for  me  to  discuss  this."  He  rose  impa 
tiently.  "  Your  daughter  does  not  wish  to  marry  me. 
I  do  not  wish  to  marry  her.  That's  the  whole  story, 
sir.  I  must  ask  you  to  let  me  continue  my  work." 

"  If  you  mean  that,"  urged  Richmond,  "  you  will 
go  to  her  and  tell  her  so.  She's  at  the  Wolcott — in 
New  York  City.  You  will  tell  her  you  do  not  love  her 
and  would  not  marry  her — and  she'll  come  home."  The 
father's  voice  had  grown  hoarse  and  quavering,  and 
in  his  face  there  was  a  piteous  humility  and  wretched 
ness — such  an  expression  as  only  a  dethroned  tyrant 
can  have.  "  If  you  knew  how  her  conduct  is  making 
me  suffer,  Mr.  Wade,  you'd  not  hesitate  to  do  me — 
and  her — this  favor."  That  last  word  of  abasement 
came  in  little  more  than  a  whisper. 

311 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  seemed  to  be  debating. 

"  You  must  realize  she  is  not  a  fit  wife  for  you — 
she,  brought  up  to  a  life  of  fashion  and  luxury.  And 
she  will  never  have  a  cent  from  me — not  a  cent !  " 

Roger  had  not  been  listening.  "  Can't  do  it,"  he 
now  said.  "  Sorry,  but  I  can't." 

"  You  wish  to  marry  her !  "  cried  Richmond  in  the 
frenzy  of  impotence  struggling  at  its  bonds.  "  You 
hope!" 

Roger,  too  full  of  pity  for  resentment,  regarded 
the  old  man  with  friendly  eyes.  "  Mr.  Richmond," 
said  he,  "  I  repeat  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  anyone.  I 
have  made  up  my  mind,  with  all  the  strength  of  what 
little  good  sense  I  may  have,  never  to  marry.  I  do  not 
believe  in  marriage — for  myself — for  people  who  are 
doing  the  sort  of  thing  I'm  trying  to  do.  You  might 
as  well  accuse  a  Catholic  priest  of  intending  to  marry." 

"  Fudge !  "  snorted  Richmond. 

Roger  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  This  interview 
was  not  of  my  seeking.  I  wish  it  to  come  to  an  end." 

"  You  refuse  to  tell  her  you  will  not  marry  her  ?  " 

"  I  refuse  to  make  an  impertinent  ass  of  myself.  If 
you  wish  your  daughter  back,  sir,  go  and  apologize  for 
having  outraged  her  finest  feelings  and  ask  her  to  come 
home  unconditionally.  I  could  not  say  to  her  what 
you  request — for  obvious  reasons  of  good  taste.  If 


PETER    CALLS    ON   ROGER 

you  had  a  sense  of  humor  you'd  not  ask  it.  But  I 
don't  hesitate  to  give  you  my  word  that  you  need  not 
have  an  instant's  uneasiness  lest  your  daughter  and  I 
marry." 

"  On  your  honor?  " 

"  On  my  honor." 

Richmond  gazed  at  him  with  eyes  that  seemed  to  be 
searching  every  corner  of  his  soul.  "  I  believe  you," 
said  he  at  last.  "  And  I  am  content."  He  had  abrupt 
ly  changed  from  suspicion  and  sneer  and  hardly  veiled 
insult  to  his  most  winning  friendliness  and  geniality. 
It  was  amazing  how  attractive  his  wizened  and  usually 
almost  wicked  face  became.  "  It's  been  my  experience," 
he  went  on  to  explain,  "  that  human  beings  are  at  bot 
tom  exactly  alike — in  motives,  in  the  things  that  ap 
peal  to  them.  Once  in  a  while  there  is  an  exception. 
You  happen  to  be  one,  Mr.  Wade.  I  think  you'll  for 
give  me  for  having  applied  my  principle  to  you.  Where 
exceptions  are  rare  it's  most  unwise  for  a  practical  man 
to  consider  them  as  a  possibility." 

Roger  smiled  amiably  enough.  "  No  matter,"  said 
he.  "  I  hope  you'll  make  it  up  with  your  daughter." 

Richmond's  face  clouded,  and  once  more  that  look 
of  anguish  showed  deep  in  his  eyes.  "  It'll  just  about 
kiU  me  if  I  don't,"  said  he. 

"  Go  to  her — like  a  father  who  loves,"  said  Roger 
21  313 


WHITE   MAGIC 


gently.  And  once  more  the  impulse  came,  too  strong 
to  resist,  and  he  dropped  the  cover  from  the  painting. 
But  this  time  he  did  not  look  at  the  picture — at  Bea 
trice  Richmond  as  incarnation  of  a  spring  morning; 
he  fixed  his  gaze  upon  her  father.  And  the  expression 
of  that  sad,  passion-scarred  face  made  him  glad  he  had 
yielded  to  the  impulse. 

"  I  must  have  it !  "  said  Richmond.  "  Name  your 
own  price." 

"  It  is  not  for  sale." 

"  I  tell  you  I  must  have  it." 

"  No — you  can  have  her.    I  shall  keep  this." 

Roger  was  gazing  absently  at  his  creation.  Rich 
mond,  struck  by  some  subtle  accent  in  his  words, 
glanced  quickly  at  him. 

"  I'll  take  it  with  me— back  to  Paris,"  said  Roger, 
talking  aloud  to  himself. 

"  When  do  you  go  ?  "  asked  Richmond  abruptly. 

"  Next  week." 

"For  the  summer?" 

"  For  good,"  said  Roger,  covering  the  picture. 

"  I  wish  you  every  success,"  cried  Richmond  heart 
ily.  "  You  are  an  honest,  sincere  man." 

The  meaning  of  Roger's  quizzical  smile  escaped 
him. 


XVII 

RICHMOND    TREES    TO    MAKE    PEACE 

IT  would  hardly  have  been  possible  for  anyone  to 
hold  crow  in  lower  esteem  as  a  repast  than  did  Daniel 
Richmond;  and,  long  though  his -career  and  many  its 
ups  and  downs,  seldom  had  he  been  called  upon  to  eat 
it.  But  on  those  few  occasions  he  had  eaten  like  the 
wise  man  he  was — as  if  it  were  a  delicacy,  as  if  it  were 
his  favorite  dish;  as  if  he  were  afraid  some  one  would 
snatch  away  his  portion  should  he  linger  over  it.  The 
vicissitudes  of  fortune  had  now  swung  crow  round  to 
him  once  more.  He  lost  no  time  in  setting  about  dis 
patching  it. 

At  ten  the  next  morning,  when  Beatrice  descended 
to  the  parlor  of  the  Wolcott  in  response  to  her  father's 
name  brought  up  to  her  in  his  hasty  scrawl  on  one  of 
the  hotel's  blank  cards,  she  was  greeted  effusively.  He 
did  not  give  her  a  chance  to  be  uppish  and  distant.  He 
met  her  in  the  door,  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed 
her  fondly. 

"  It's  been  an  age  since  I  saw  you,"  cried  he,  twink- 
315 


WHITE   MAGIC 


ling  with  good  humor.  "  I'm  amazed  to  find  you  still 
young." 

She  was  quite  taken  aback,  but  succeeded  in  con 
cealing  it  and  in  accepting  his  suggestion  as  to  the 
dominant  note  of  what  she  had  assumed  would  be  a  try 
ing  interview.  "How's  mother — and  the  boys?"  in 
quired  she.  "  Much  changed  ?  " 

"  All  well.  Your  mother  holds  together  wonder 
fully." 

There  was  no  jest,  however,  but  a  moving  earnest 
ness  in  his  eyes  as  they  fixed  upon  her  a  hungry,  de 
vouring  expression.  And  her  own  look  at  him  strongly 
suggested  the  presence  of  a  veil  of  tears.  Neither  had 
until  now  realized  how  much  they  cared  about  each 
other,  how  strong  was  the  sympathy  through  similarity 
of  character.  He  abruptly  seized  her  and  kissed  her 
again,  his  fingers  trembling  as  he  passed  them  over  her 
yellow  hair.  "  I'm  mighty  glad  to  see  you,"  said  he. 
"  Mighty  glad." 

"  And  I  you,"  she  replied,  taking  his  hand  and  giv 
ing  it  an  affectionate  squeeze.  And  then  she  kissed  him 
and  openly  wiped  away  her  tears. 

This  outburst  of  nature  on  her  part  was  a  grave 
tactical  blunder — for,  in  dealing  with  men  of  his  sort, 
the  guard  can  never  be  dropped;  their  habit  of  seeing 
seizing  advantage  is  too  powerful  ever  to  relax. 
316 


I'm  mighty  glad  to  see  you.'  said  he.      *  Mighty  glad.'" 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

Upsetting  to  him  though  his  agitation  and  delight 
were,  he  did  not  cease  to  be  himself.  The  instant  he 
saw  how  moved  she  was,  how  she  was  meeting  his  ad 
vances  half  way  at  least,  if  not  more,  he  began  to  hope 
he  could  spare  himself  the  hated  dish  of  crow.  So,  al 
though  his  napkin  was  tucked  under  his  chin  and  his 
knife  and  fork  were  in  air,  eager  for  the  festal  attack, 
he  did  not  proceed.  He  had  intended  his  next  words 
to  be  a  sweeping  apology.  Instead,  he  said : 

"  I  see  you've  been  thinking  things  over,  just  as 
I  have." 

"  Yes,"  replied  she. 

"  We  were  both  hasty.  You  inherit  my  disposition 
— and  it's  a  rather  difficult  one."  He  was  hesitatingly 
caressing  her  hand.  "  I  wanted  a  boy  with  my  sort 
of  brain,"  he  went  on.  "  But  it  didn't  turn  out  that 
way.  You  inherited,  instead.  Just  as  well,  perhaps. 
I'd  have  broken  with  a  boy  like  myself.  But  the  fem 
inine  in  you  saves  the  situation.  We  can  forgive  each 
other  without  pride  interfering.  .  .  .  I'm  sorry  for 
what  I  did,  and  I've  no  doubt  you  are.  Let's  forget 
it  all  and  go  home  and  begin  again." 

"  You  mean  that,  father  ?  "  cried  she,  tears  again 
welling  into  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  you  do  love  me !  And 
I  thought  you  didn't." 

"  This  business  has  aged  me  ten  years,"  said  he, 
317 


WHITE   MAGIC 


thinking  rapidly  as  he  was  still  further  encouraged  by 
those  tears.  "  I  saw  it  myself  when  I  shaved  this 
morning." 

Beatrice  hung  her  head.  For  the  moment  she  felt 
guilty.  She — she  had  aged  this  loving,  always-indul 
gent  father! 

This  further  evidence  of  feminine  softness  and  af 
fection  encouraged  him  to  the  point  of  believing  him 
self  once  more  master.  He  said,  in  a  forgiving  tone: 
"  But  you  didn't  realize  what  you  were  doing.  Well, 
you've  had  a  valuable  lesson,  my  dear,  and  you've  got 
the  intelligence  to  profit  by  it.  How  long  will  it  take 
you  to  get  ready  ?  " 

"  Oh,  not  long.  I've  got  some  things  to  attend  to, 
but  I  can  do  it  at  Red  Hill  just  as  well  as  here,  I  think." 

"  Go  up  and  pack,  and  I'll  come  back  in  an  hour." 
He  rose.  "  What  a  weight  this  lifts  off  me !  "  And  his 
appearance  confirmed  his  words.  "  But  I'm  gladdest 
of  all  because  it  vindicates  your  good  sense.  I  knew 
my  daughter  would  see  I  was  doing  what  was  best  for 
her,  would  see  it  just  as  soon  as  her  intelligence  re 
gained  control." 

Beatrice  had  risen ;  at  this  last  sentence  she  sat 
down  again  with  a  dazed  expression.  "  I'm  afraid  I 
don't  quite  understand,  father,"  said  she,  hesitatingly. 
"  I'm  afraid  I  misunderstood  you." 

318 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

Richmond  saw  he  had  gone  too  far — probably  not 
much  too  far,  but  still  beyond  where  her  mood  of  peni 
tence  had  carried  her — as  yet.  "  Let's  not  discuss  dis 
agreeable  tilings,"  said  he  hurriedly.  "  Do  your  pack 
ing  and  let's  get  home.  Once  we  get  there  everything 
else  can  be  settled  easily." 

But  Beatrice,  after  trying  in  vain  to  arrest  his 
evading  glance,  kept  her  seat.  "  No,  we  must  under 
stand  each  other  first,"  said  she  decisively. 

"  Now,  Beatrice,"  protested  her  father  at  the  door 
into  the  hall,  "  don't  spoil  your  happiness  and  my 
own ! " 

"  Listen  to  me,  father.  I've  not  changed  my  mind 
about  Peter — not  in  the  least." 

"  Oh — bother  Peter !  "  exclaimed  he  good-humored- 

iy. 

"  Do  you  still  expect  me  to  marry  him?  " 

Richmond  saw  there  was  no  dodging  the  issue.  He 
met  it  squarely.  "  I'm  sure  you'll  want  to  marry  him. 
But  I'm  not  going  to  force  you — or  try  to." 

"  But  listen.  I  haven't  changed  my  mind  about 
Roger,  either." 

"  Well — well,"   said  Richmond,   still  good-humored 
though  not  so  easily.    "  It'd  be  foolish  for  us  to  quarrel 
about  him.     You  say  he  has  refused  you." 
Yes — but  I  haven't  given  him  up." 
319 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  That  isn't  a  very  nice  way  for  a  girl  to  talk — is 
it  now,  my  dear  ?  "  said  Richmond,  laughing  with  some 
constraint. 

"Why  not?  "'said  she. 

"  It's  the  man's  place  to  do  the  courting  and  the 
proposing.  And  if  the  man  doesn't  want  you  I'm  sure 
you've  got  too  much  modesty  and  pride  to — 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  have  or  not,"  interrupted 
Beatrice.  "  I've  got  a  lot  of  you  in  me.  I  can't  imag 
ine  anything  I  wouldn't  do  to  get  him  if  I  thought  it 
would  help.  And  I  haven't  thought  of  much  else  but  of 
different  schemes  to  bring  him  round.  I'm  like  you  are 
when  you  see  a  railroad  you  want." 

"  But  there's  nothing  you  can  do,  Beatrice,"  remon 
strated  her  father. 

"  No — it  seems  not,"  she  assented  despondently. 
66  Oh,  how  it  enrages  me  to  be  a  woman  !  When  a  man 
sees  a  girl  he  recognizes  as  the  very  best  for  him,  one 
he  can't  and  won't  do  without,  he  goes  after  her — 
straight  out — and  everybody  applauds.  It  ought  to  be 
so  with  a  girl." 

"  God  forbid !  "  cried  Richmond,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  the  men  wouldn't  be  bothered  as  much  as  you 
seem  to  think.  Not  many  of  them  are  tremendously 
worth  while.  The  women  feel  about  most  of  them 

like " 

320 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

"  Like  they  do  about  mashed  potatoes  in  Indiana — 
don't  care  whether  they're  eating  'em  or  not  ?  " 

"  Just  so,"  laughed  she. 

Once  more  he  was  at  the  hall  door.  He  turned  for 
a  last  look  and  smile.  "  I'll  be  back  in  an  hour,  and 
out  home  we'll  plan  something  to  take  your  mind  off 
this  unappreciative  man." 

Beatrice  looked  disappointed.  "  I  thought  you 
were  going  to  say  plan  something  to  bring  him  round. 
That's  what  we  must  do." 

This  was  the  fatal  one  prod  too  many  at  the  leashed 
temper  of  Richmond.  "  Don't  irritate  me,  Beatrice," 
he  said  sharply — a  plea  verging  on  a  rebuke.  "  Please 
try  to  be  a  little  tactful  with  me." 

"  I  see  you  haven't  changed  at  all,"  cried  she,  tears 
in  her  eyes  again — hot  tears  of  a  very  different  kind 
from  those  before. 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  go  home,"  cried  he, 
struggling  with  his  temper. 

"  I  do — if  you  are  willing  to  grant  me  the  dearest 
right  a  woman  has — the  right  to  select  her  own  hus 
band."  She  came  closer  to  him,  clasped  her  hands  and 
laid  them  against  his  shoulder.  And  into  his  eyes 
gazed  hers,  innocent,  anxious.  "  Oh,  father,  won't  you 
be  sensible — reasonable  ?  I've  got  to  live  with  him — not 
you." 

321 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I'd  do  almost  anything  to  please  you,  my  dear. 
If  he  were  in  your  class " 

"  But  that's  just  why  I  want  him,"  cried  she.  "  Do 
you  think  a  man  like  that  could  grow  up  in  my  class  ?  " 

"  There  are  lots  of  clever  painters  about — lots  of 
'em." 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  his  painting,"  ex 
claimed  she  impatiently.  "  I  don't  know  anything 
about  it.  I'm  speaking  of  him  as  a  man.  A  woman 
doesn't  marry  a  talent — or  a  family — or  a  fortune. 
She  wants  a  man.  Of  course,  if  she  can't  get  a  man, 
why,  one  of  the  other  things  is  better  than  nothing. 
But  /  can  get  a  man,  father — if  you'll  help  me !  " 

"  Peter's  almost  as  tall — and  quite  as  handsome — 
and  much  more  like  your  sort  of  looking  man." 

"  Father — father — how  can  you !  And  you  have  a 
sense  of  humor,  too !  " 

"  It's  fortunate  for  you,  my  dear,  that  Wade  has 
the  good  sense  to  see  he  would  be  ill  at  ease  out  of  his 
own  class.  If  he  were  willing,  and  I  were  foolish,  and 
you  married  him — how  wretched  you'd  be  when  the 
awakening  came !  " 

The  girl  turned  sadly  away.  "  You  don't  believe  in 
love,"  she  said  with  bitterness.  "  You  don't  believe  in 
anything  but  money." 

"  I  want  to  see  my  daughter  happy,"  said  Rich- 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

mond  with  a  melancholy,  reproachful  dignity  that  made 
her  ashamed  of  herself. 

"  Yes — I  know  you  do,  father,"  said  she.  "  But  " 
— with  a  look  of  hesitation  that  might  readily  have 
been  mistaken  for  weakness — "  I  see  I  must  go  my  own 
way." 

Richmond  reflected  that  this  did  not  mean  much,  as 
Roger  Wade  was  firmly  set  against  marriage.  So  he 
said,  with  hypocritical  resignation :  "  Very  well,  my 
dear.  Do  as  you  like.  All  I  want  is  you  to  come 
home." 

Beatrice  slowly  shook  her  head.  "  I  can't  go,"  said 
she. 

Her  father  stared,  astounded;  her  expression  made 
her  words  as  far  as  possible  from  impulsive  or  careless. 

"  I  see  you  haven't  changed  at  all.  If  I  went  back 
the  same  trouble  would  break  out  again — only  worse. 
Besides,  what  chance  would  I  have  to  get  him?  You'd 
work  against  me  secretly  if  you  didn't  openly.  No — 
I  don't  trust  you.  I  must  make  up  my  mind  to  shift 
for  myself." 

'*  What  on  earth  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  he  ej  acu- 
lated.  "  Are  you  stark  mad?  " 

"  No.  I'm  becoming  sane,"  said  she  quietly. 
"  Won't  you  sit  down  a  minute  ?  " 

Richmond  seated  himself  meekly.  The  fear  that 
323 


WHITE   MAGIC 


had  brought  him  there  to  apologize  was  chilling  his  hot 
temper. 

"  I  left  home  partly  because  of  Roger  Wade,"  she 
proceeded  to  explain,  "  but  not  altogether.  There 
was  another  reason — as  strong — maybe  stronger.  You 
had  opened  my  eyes  to  the  truth  about  myself — to  what 
a  degraded  position  I  was  in." 

"  Degraded  ?  "  echoed  he  wonderingly .  Then,  some 
what  like  an  alienist  humoring  an  insane  patient :  "  But 
go  on,  my  dear." 

"  I  had  been  imagining  all  along  that  I  was  free. 
I  suddenly  found  that  I  wasn't  free  at  all — that  I  had 
to  do  what  you  said — even  about  the  things  that  meant 
my  whole  life — had  to  do  as  you  ordered  or  lose  all  the 
things  you  had  made  necessities  to  me — all  the  luxury 
and  the  enjoyments  and  the  friends  even.  I  saw  I 
wasn't  anything  in  myself — nothing  at  all — and  I  had 
been  going  round  with  my  head  high,  so  proud  and  so 
pleased  with  myself!  I  understood  why  Roger  Wade 
didn't  think  me  worth  while.  I  understood  why  you 
could  treat  me  contemptuously." 

"Is  that  all?"  inquired  her  father,  when  she 
paused  for  a  reflective  silence. 

"  No — just  a  little  more.  So — I'm  not  going  back 
home  with  you — not  just  now.  I'm  going  on  with  the 
dressmaking." 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

Bac~T£miKBBHBM^^^HMHHHBaHHH:^M^^^H^Hl^HHimK^H^^^^^^^^^BiBM^BBeE^^HBMaili^H^H^HKKaB 

"  With  the— what?  " 

"  Oh,  I  forgot  I  hadn't  told  you,"  said  she  with  a 
smile.  "  Valentine  and  I — and  Monsieur  Lery,  whom 
she  is  marrying — are  starting  a  dressmaking  shop." 

Richmond  stood  up  straight,  and  his  scanty  hair 
and  thick  eyebrows  seemed  to  be  assisting  materially 
in  making  him  the  embodiment  of  horrified  amazement. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  father.  The  name  over  the 
door  is  not  to  be  Richmond  or  Beatrice,  but  Valentine 
— though,  of  course,  I'll  take  part  openly.  I  want 
everybody  to  know,  because  I  intend  to  make  loads  and 
loads  of  money.  You've  no  idea  of  the  profits  in  fash 
ionable  dressmaking.  Eighty — a  hundred — a  hundred 
and  fifty  per  cent !  " 

"  You  are  joking!  " 

She  pretended  to  misunderstand.  "  No — fully 
that,"  she  cried  delight edly. 

"  Beatrice !    I  forbid  it." 

"  But  I?ni  not  asking  you  to  invest,"  laughed  she. 
"  In  fact,  we  don't  want  any  more  capital  or  partners. 
Personally,  I  wish  Lery  were  an  employee  instead  of  a 
partner.  But  Valentine  would  insist,  I'm  sure — 

"  You  will  drive  me  mad !  "  exclaimed  her  father, 
throwing  his  arms  about  wildly.  "  This  folly  is  worse 
than  the  infatuation  for  that  artist !  "  And  he  started 
up,  fumed  about  the  room,  sank  exhausted  and  trem- 

325 


WHITE   MAGIC 


bling  into  a  chair.  "  You'll  be  the  death  of  me ! "  he 
gasped. 

"  Now,  do  be  reasonable,  father,"  she  urged.  "  Why 
shouldn't  I  use  my  talents  for  business  and  for  dress 
and  make  myself  rich?  Don't  talk  to  me  about  what 
people  will  think.  I  don't  care.  I've  found  out  what 
people  are  worth.  Why,  even  my  friend,  Allie  Kin- 
near,  hasn't  been  near  me." 

"  I  forbid  it !  I  forbid  it !  "  her  father  cried,  shak 
ing  his  fists  in  the  air.  And  off  again  he  went  into  one 
of  his  paroxysms  of  fury. 

"But  I'm  of  age." 

"  I'll  have  you  locked  up  as  insane !  I'll  have  a  com 
mission  appointed  to  take  charge  of  your  property !  " 

"  When  I  showed  them  my  plans  for  the  shop  I 
think  they'd  let  me  alone.  We'll  make  barrels  of  money. 
New  York  hasn't  seen  such  a  shop  as  I'd  run.  The 
trouble  with  the  dressmaking  business  is  that  no  woman 
who  really  knows " 

He  seized  her  by  the  arm,  glared  into  her  face. 
"  This  is  an  infernal  scheme  to  bring  me  to  terms !  Has 
that  artist  put  you  up  to  it  ?  " 

"  How  absurd !  I  haven't  seen  him.  I  doubt  if  he 
knows  I've  left  home.  Father,  since  I  seem  not  to  be 
able  to  get  him  I've  simply  got  to  do  something — 
something  that  will  keep  me  so  busy  I  shan't  have  time 

326 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

to  think.  For  I'm  not — as  you  imagine — the  victim 
of  a  foolish  girl's  infatuation.  I'm  really  in  love, 
father  dear — sensibly  in  love." 

"  No  one  is  sensible  who's  in  love,"  said  he  in  a  far 
gentler  tone.  His  rages  had  about  exhausted  his 
strength.  He  was  feeling  an  ominous  feebleness  of  limb 
and  heart  that  alarmed  him.  "  Nobody's  sensible  who's 
in  love,"  he  repeated. 

"  Nobody's  sensible  who  isn't — if  they  get  half  a 
chance,"  replied  she.  "  It's  the  only  thing  in  life." 

And  his  haggard  face  and  the  hungry  misery  of  his 
eyes  contained  no  denial  of  her  confident  assertion. 
"  Is  there  nothing  that  will  induce  you  to  come  home, 
Beatrice?  "  he  pleaded  with  the  weakness  of  exhaustion. 
"  I'll  never  speak  of  Peter — of  marriage — again.  I'll 
give  you  whatever  income  you  want — in  your  own 
right." 

"And  Roger?" 

Richmond  winced;  but  those  inward  reminders  of 
oncreeping  old  age,  lonely  and  loveless  if  this  girl 
turned  from  him,  forbade  him  to  draw  back.  "  You 
think  you  could  get  him  if  I  were  to  consent  ?  " 

"  Perhaps."  There  was  the  ecstatic  quiver  of  a 
newborn  hope  in  her  voice. 

fi  That  is,  you  would  marry  him,  even  though  you 
were  convinced  he  was  a  fortune  hunter?  " 

327 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  He  might  be  afraid  to  undertake  the  support  of 
as  expensive  a  girl  as  I  am.  He  doesn't  dream  how 
inexpensive  I  could  be." 

A  long  pause,  he  gazing  at  the  floor,  she  anxiously 
watching  him.  "  Well — I  consent,"  burst  from  her 
father.  His  tone  suggested  a  false  admission  wrung 
under  torture. 

Another  long  pause,  she  eying  him  dubiously,  he 
avoiding  her  gaze.  "  I  don't  trust  you,"  said  she. 
"  It's  your  own  fault.  You  can't  blame  me.  I  couldn't 
ever  trust  you,  after  the  thing  you  did  against  Roger 
— and  your  threats  to  Peter  and  to  me." 

"  I  am  an  old  fool — a  weak  old  fool !  "  he  shouted, 
seizing  his  hat.  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  you !  I'm  done 
with  you !  " 

And  out  he  bolted,  running  squarely  into  a  woman 
who  was  just  entering  the  parlor.  He  did  not  pause 
to  apologize. 

In  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Richmond  came — beautiful 
ly  dressed  and  diffusing  a  strong  but  elegant  odor  of 
concentrated  essence  of  lilies  of  the  valley.  "  I'd  have 
been  here  long  ago,"  she  explained  as  she  kissed  and 
embraced  her  daughter  and  shed  a  few  cautious  tears, 
"  but  I  didn't  dare.  This  was  my  first  chance.  Your 
father  has  absolutely  forbidden  me.  And  I  had  always 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

thought  he  was  rather  partial  to  you.  But  then,  I 
might  have  known.  He  cares  for  nobody — for  nothing 
— but  those  schemes  and  plans  of  his.  You'd  never  be 
lieve  he  was  the  same  man  as  the  one  I  married.  And 
he  isn't.  Success  has  turned  his  head." 

"  He  was  here  this  morning,"  said  Beatrice. 

"  Here  !  "  exclaimed  her  mother.     "  What  for?  " 

"  For  me." 

Jealousy  sparkled  in  her  mother's  hastily  veiled 
eyes.  "  Trying  to  get  you  into  his  power  again,"  she 
sneered. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Beatrice.  "  Yes — that  must 
have  been  it." 

"  Then  you  are  coming  home?  " 

"  Oh,  no." 

The  jealousy  passed;  the  mother  returned.  "  But, 
Beatrice — he  has  changed  his  will  and  has  cut  you  off. 
He's  leaving  your  portion  to  Hector." 

Beatrice  looked  uncomfortable.  "  I  shan't  say  I 
like  that,"  said  she,  "  for  it'd  be  false.  But  I'm  not 
coming  home,  just  the  same.  There's  been  a  great 
change  in  me2  mother." 

"  You  always  were  headstrong,"  said  her  mother. 
"  I  used  to  feel,  when  you  were  a  baby,  that  the  day 
would  come  when  there'd  be  a  clash  between  you  and 
your  father." 

22  329 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"Well— the  clash  is  over.  We'll  let  each  other 
alone  after  this." 

"  But  what  is  to  become  of  you  ?  Of  course,  I'll 
have  something;  and  as  long  as  I  have  anything — " 
Mrs.  Richmond  checked  herself,  flushed.  "  In  fact,  I 
have  got  a  little,  Beatrice.  I  put  by  in  case  there  ever 
should  be  this  kind  of  trouble  between  him  and  the 
children.  I  can  let  you  have  a  good  income — enough, 
with  what  you've  got,  to  make  a  showing  you  needn't 
be  ashamed  of.  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Wade  ?  " 

Beatrice  put  her  arms  around  her  mother  and 
kissed  her — tenderly,  but  with  that  carefulness  which 
one  woman  never  neglects  in  caressing  another  who  has 
made  a  careful  toilet.  "  If  I  need  the  money  I'll  tell 
you,  dear,"  said  she.  "  No,  I  haven't  seen  him.  Have 
you?" 

"  Late    yesterday    afternoon.       He    was    striding 
along  the  road — didn't  see  me." 
"  How  was  he  looking  ?  " 
"  Anxious  and  depressed,  I  thought." 
Beatrice  beamed.     "  You're  not  telling  me  that — 
just  to  make  me  feel  good?" 

"  No — no,  indeed.     He  looked  almost  haggard." 
Beatrice  kissed  her  mother  again.     There  could  not 
be  the  slightest  doubt.     Her  mother,  in  the  habit  of 
siding  with  her  children  against  their  aggressive  father 

330 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

and  of  protecting  them  from  him,  was  moving  in  her 
direction.  "Why  don't  you  go  to  see  him?"  she 
boldly  suggested. 

"  If  your  father  should  find  out !  " 

"  You've  got  the  picture  as  an  excuse.     You  know,  ' 
father  thinks  we  met  Roger  in  Europe." 

"  Yes — yes — I  had  forgotten.  ...  I  don't  know 
what  possesses  me!  I  can't  understand  myself,  even 
thinking  of  helping  you  in  such  an  absurd,  idiotic  thing 
as  marrying  a  poor  artist." 

"  A  poor  man — not  a  poor  artist,"  laughed  Bea 
trice. 

"  I  suppose,"  went  on  Mrs.  Richmond,  "  it  must  be 
for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  father  defeated  in 
something  he  has  set  his  heart  on.  He  has  trampled 
me  so  often  I'd  like  to  see  him  humbled  once." 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  him  when  I  told  him  I 
was  going  into  the  dressmaking  business." 

"  Beatrice !  "  cried  her  mother — and  her  expression 
of  horrified  amazement  was  a  fit  companion  for  that  of 
Richmond. 

"  I'm  going  to  make  stacks  of  money,"  said  Bea 
trice  carelessly.  "  You  know  I've  got  taste — and  a 
good  business  head." 

"Didn't  your  father  forbid  you?"  demanded  her 
mother,  quivering  with  agitation. 

331 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Yes — and  I  reminded  him  I  was  of  age." 

"Why,  it'll  ruin  us  all!"  wailed  Mrs.  Richmond. 
"  Beatrice,  I  do  believe  you've  lost  your  mind." 

"  Just  what  father  said." 

"  Surely  you  won't  do  it,  now  that  I've  offered  you 
a  good  income.  You  can  have  fifteen  thousand — in 
addition  to  what  you've  got." 

"  And  how  would  I  pass  the  time?  " 

"  Why,  as  you  always  have." 

The  peculiar,  romantic — "  crazy,"  her  father 
called  it — look  drifted  into  the  girl's  face,  completely 
transforming  it.  "  Yes,"  replied  she  dreamily,  "  but 
that  was  before  I  knew  Roger." 

"  What  shall  I  do !  "  moaned  Mrs.  Richmond.  She 
was  anything  but  a  keen  observer,  but  she  was  woman 
enough  to  understand  that  look.  "  If  you  married  him 
you'd  give  this  up — wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  I  hadn't  thought.  Yes — I  suppose  I'd  have  to. 
Looking  after  him  would  take  all  my  time." 

"  Then  you  must  marry  him ! "  cried  her  mother 
resolutely.  "  I  shall  see  your  father  at  once." 

"  You'll  simply  get  yourself  into  trouble,  mother 
dear." 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him  now !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  with  militant  eyes  and  nostrils.  "  He  has  made  a 
fool  of  himself — and  he  knows  it.  I'll  not  have  all  I've 

332 


RICHMOND  TRIES  TO  MAKE  PEACE 

spent  my  life  in  building  up  torn  down  just  because 
he  is  such  a  monstrous  snob.  Why  should  he  object 
to  a  distinguished  artist  as  a  son-in-law?  Why,  Mr. 
Wade  would  be  an  addition  to  the  family,  socially." 

And  so  on  and  on,  Beatrice  letting  her  mother  rave 
herself  into  a  fitting  state  of  mind  for  a  struggle  with 
her  husband.  Whenever  she  paused  Beatrice  brought 
up  the  dressmaking  to  set  her  off  again.  And  when  she 
was  about  to  leave  Beatrice  called  in  Valentine  and 
presented  her  as  "  My  partner,  Miss  Clermont."  Mrs. 
Richmond  was  quite  done  for.  Her  daughter's  maid 
treated  as  an  equal — and  become  her  daughter's  busi 
ness  partner!  "I'll  telephone  you  to-night — or  see 
you  to-morrow,"  said  she  as  she  was  leaving.  She  did 
not  dare  offend  Beatrice  by  ignoring  "  Miss  Clermont." 
So  she  made  a  bow  that  was  a  highly  amusing  specimen 
of  those  always  amusing  compromises  which  no  sentient 
thing  in  the  universe  but  the  humorless  human  animal 
would  attempt  to  carry  off. 


XVIII 

MRS.    RICHMOND    REBELS 

FOR  some  time  after  her  mother  left  Beatrice  sat 
in  a  brown  study,  her  ex-maid  and  partner  seated 
across  the  table  from  her  and  not  venturing  to  inter 
rupt.  At  last,  Beatrice  said :  "  I  don't  understand  it 
at  all.  I'd  never  have  believed  mother  would  take  it 
that  way." 

"  You  could  hardly  expect  her  to  be  pleased,  Miss 
Richmond,"  replied  Valentine. 

"  Oh,  I  knew  she'd  blow  up  and  sail  into  me,"  said 
Beatrice.  "  I'm  puzzling  over  the  way  she  acted  about 
father.  I  never  before  knew  her  to  revolt  against  him." 

"  Probably — when  Mrs.  Richmond  sees  him — "  was 
Miss  Clermont's  highly  suggestive,  unfinished  comment. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  Beatrice.  "  And  yet —  Mamma 
was  mad  through  and  through — fighting  mad.  I  never 
saw  her  like  that — with  him.  I  shouldn't  have  believed 
it  was  in  her.  I  suspect — I  hope — she'll  make  trouble." 

Beatrice  was  right  in  her  diagnosis  of  her  mother's 
rage.  Mrs.  Richmond  was  indeed  fighting  mad. 
Everything  that  lives,  even  a  human  being  weakened 

334 


.    RICHMOND    EEBELS 


by  luxury  and  by  long  and  meek  servitude,  has  its  limit 
of  endurance,  its  point  at  which  it  will  cease  to  run 
or  to  cower  and  will  fight  to  the  last  gasp.  That  limit, 
that  point  had  been  reached  by  Mrs.  Richmond.  There 
were  many  things  she  liked  in  varying  degrees  —  her 
children,  society  novels,  half  a  dozen  friends,  her  maid 
Marthe,  an  occasional  man  —  the  Count  d'Artois  just 
at  that  time.  There  were  three  things  only  to  which 
she  was  deeply  attached  —  three  besides  herself.  The 
first  was  her  youthful  appearance,  which  she  struggled 
so  assiduously  to  retain.  The  second  was  wealth,  which 
gave  her  so  many  delightful  moral,  mental  and  phys 
ical  sensations.  The  third  and  dearest  was  social  posi 
tion.  The  mania  of  social  position  habitually  seizes 
upon  persons  of  great  affluence  and  small  intelligence; 
it  manifests  itself  early,  often  in  a  grave  form  ;  but  it 
does  not  become  virulent  until  middle  life.  With  Mrs. 
Richmond  the  mania  was  aggravated  by  her  not  having 
been  born  to  fashionable  society.  Patiently,  resolutely, 
toilsomely  she  had  built  herself  up  socially  year  by 
year.  She  had  endured  humiliations,  snubs,  insults,  as 
a  gallant  soldier  endures  the  blows  and  buffetings  of 
battle.  'And  her  virtue  had  been  rewarded.  She  had 
attained  social  position  —  not,  indeed,  security,  for  in 
America  social  security  is  impossible;  but  an  envied 
rank  among  the  very  first,  reasonably  assured  so  long 

335 


WHITE   MAGIC 


as  Richmond  retained  his  wealth  and  no  degrading  scan 
dal  undermined  and  toppled.  Like  the  prudent  soul 
that  she  was,  she  remained  sleeplessly  vigilant  lest  some 
such  scandal  should  come  from  an  unexpected  quarter. 

There  were  obcure  relations — vulgar — no,  worse — 
positively  low.  True,  everybody  was  cursed  with  such ; 
but  to  Mrs.  Richmond  her  own  and  her  husband's  im 
possible  kin  seemed  more  awful  than  anyone  else's. 
Then,  Richmond,  industrious  social  climber  though  he 
was  and  as  careful  about  matters  of  social  position  as 
any  of  the  other  big  men  of  finance  who  graciously 
permitted  their  families  to  be  fashionable — Richmond 
occasionally  broke  loose  and  offended  by  coarse  and 
greedy  snatching  at  wealth  owned  by  persons  of  social 
power.  Also,  he  occasionally  almost  overreached  him 
self  in  his  contempt  for  law  and  public  opinion,  and 
put  in  jeopardy  his  reputation.  But  this  danger  was 
not  now  haunting  her  as  it  once  had.  Through  the 
constant  infractions  of  Richmond  and  his  like  the  moral 
code  was  no  longer  what  it  used  to  be,  was  a  mere  col 
lection  of  old  tatters.  Pretty  much  everybody  who 
socially  was  anybody  despised  it  in  private  and  pro 
fessed  public  respect  for  it  only  out  of  habit  and  for  the 
benefit  of  the  lower  classes. 

Finally,  there  were  the  children.  One  could  never 
tell  what  one's  children  would  grow  up  into.  Of  the 

336 


MRS.    RICHMOND   REBELS 

four,  she  had  regarded  the  younger  daughter  as  the 
safest  because  she  was  intensely  proud,  fond  of  social 
position,  of  fashionable  luxury — fonder  of  them  than 
of  anything — except,  perhaps,  of  having  her  own  way 
where  opposed.  Yes,  Beatrice  would  never  cause  her 
social  anxiety.  In  the  irony  of  fate  it  was  she  and  only 
she  who  had  become  troublesome.  The  refusal  to 
marry  Peter  Vanderkief  was  bad.  The  infatuation  for 
an  artist,  eminent  though  he  seemed  to  be — at  least,  in 
France — was  worse.  This  dressmaking  was  worst. 
To  Mrs.  Richmond's  excited  fancy  it  seemed  to  fore 
shadow  social  downfall — not  from  the  fashionable  set, 
but  from  leadership  in  it.  If  there  had  been  so  much 
as  a  single  previous  generation  of  fashionable  Rich- 
monds,  or  if  their  own  fashion  were  a  matter  of  twenty 
years  instead  of  a  scant  ten,  the  thing  wouldn't  matter. 
Beatrice  would  be  regarded  as  eccentric — and  eccen 
tricity  is  a  mark  of  aristocratic  blood.  But,  in  the  cir 
cumstances,  for  Beatrice  to  become  a  dressmaker  in 

partnership  with  a  French  maid  and  a  chauffeur 

Mrs.  Richmond  burst  in  upon  her  husband  at  his 
office  with  her  fury  intact.  Richmond  knew  at  a  glance 
that  he  had  to  deal  with  a  revolt  and  a  dangerous  one. 
He  showed  that  he  understood  all  about  its  origin  by 
sa}'ing  as  soon  as  his  secretary  had  gone :  "  You've 
been  to  see  Beatrice." 

337 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  She  told  you  this  morning  that  she  was  going 
into  the  dressmaking  business  ?  "  said  the  wife,  nostrils 
dilating,  eyes  blazing  at  him. 

"  Yes."  And  Richmond  concentrated  himself  in  a 
corner  of  his  big  chair.  It  looked  like  a  gesture  of 
shrinking,  of  timidity.  In  fact,  it  was  simply  his  way 
of  gathering  himself  together  at  the  first  onslaught  of 
danger. 

"Here  in  New  York!" 

"  Yes." 

"With  Valentine!" 

Richmond  made  a  slight  gesture  of  assent. 

"  And— Lery!  " 

Richmond  from  the  corner  of  his  chair  stretched 
out  one  hesitating  hand  to  the  papers  on  the  desk  be 
fore  him. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  "  demanded 
the  wife  in  a  low  tone  that  sounded  as  if  it  had  forced 
its  way  through  clinched  teeth. 

Richmond   leaned   back   in   his    chair,    clasped   his 
'  hands  behind  his  big  head,  stared  out  of  the  window. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  repeated 
his  wife. 

Still  no  reply. 

"  Are  you  going  to  sacrifice  all  that  I've  spent  so 
many  years  in  building  up  ?  " 

338 


MBS.   RICHMOND   REBELS 

"You?"  snapped  Richmond,  with  contemptuous 
sarcasm.  "  What  have  you  done?  " 

"  I've  made  our  social  position — that's  what  I've 
done." 

"  You  mean  /'ve  built  it — my  money  and  my  power. 
People  recognize  us  because  they  don't  dare  anger  me." 
This  in  the  voice  of  axiomatic  truth. 

But  Mrs.  Richmond  was  too  angry — too  alarmed. 
Panic  has  its  courage  more  dangerous  than  valor's. 
"  Look  at  the  Galloways,"  cried  she.  "  They've  got 
more  money  than  we  have.  Look  at  the  Roebucks — 
more  money  than  we  have — and  Roebuck  a  man  you're 
afraid  of." 

"  I'm  afraid  of  nobody !  "  blustered  he. 

She  answered  this  with  a  maddening,  little,  sneer 
ing  laugh,  and  went  on :  "  Look  at  the  Fosdicks — and 
the  Bellinghams — and  the  Ashforths.  More  money 
than  we  have." 

"  Yes — and  they're  received."  But  his  tone  was 
not  all  it  might  have  been. 

"  You  know  the  difference,"  said  she,  in  open  con 
tempt  of  his  flimsy  evasion.  "  They're  in  but  not  of. 
We're  both  in  and  of.  And  why?  .  .  .  Why?"  she 
repeated  fiercely.  "  Why  are  we  in  and  of,  in  spite  of 
the  enemies  you've  made — in  spite  of  the  shady  things 

you've  done — in  spite  of " 

339 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Now,  see  here,  Lucy — I've  not  complained  of 
your  way  of  managing  your  side  of  the  family  affairs. 
You've  done  very  well."  This  was  said  patronizingly, 
but  with  a  mildness  that,  issuing  from  Daniel  Rich 
mond,  made  it  sound  almost  like  a  whimper. 

"  And  since  I  got  the  Earl  of  Broadstairs  away 
from  Sally  Peyton  and  married  him  to  Rhoda  we've 
been  right  in  the  front  rank.  There  aren't  but  two  big 
families  that  still  hold  out." 

"  The  Vanderkief  marriage  might  have  got  them," 
said  Richmond. 

"  If  Beatrice  starts  up  as  a  dressmaker — with  those 
two  servants " 

"  But — what  can  7  do  ?  "  he  interrupted  violently. 
"  She's  insane — insane !  " 

"  It's  you  that  are  insane,  Dan,"  cried  his  wife. 
"  You  knew  the  girl.  You  knew  you'd  made  her  hard 
to  manage.  Why  did  you  goad  her  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  you'd  have  let  her  marry  that  painter 
fellow,"  sneered  the  husband. 

"  Anything  but   such  a  scandal  as  this,"  declared  j 
she.     "  And  it's  got  to  be  stopped !  " 

Richmond  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  I  offered  to 
drop  the  Vanderkief  marriage.  I  offered  to  take  her 
back.  I  begged  her  to  come  back." 

"  But  you  didn't  tell  her  she  could  marry  Wade." 
340 


MRS.    RICHMOND    REBELS 

"  Yes,  I  did !  "  confessed  he.  "  Yes — I  did  even 
that." 

Mrs.  Richmond  frankly  showed  her  incredulity ;  and 
that  there  might  be  no  doubt,  she  said :  "  I  don't  be 
lieve  it." 

"  Do  you  think  I've  got  no  sense?  I  saw  what  the 
scandal  would  mean.  Besides — "  Richmond  did  not 
give  his  other  reason.  He  was  too  ashamed  of  his  weak 
ness  of  love  for  the  girl  to  expose  it. 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Richmond  had  recovered.  "  And 
is  that  all  you've  done  ?  " 

"  All?  "  he  cried.     «  All?     What  else  could  I  do?  " 

"  Get  her  the  man." 

"Get  her  the  man?"  repeated  he,  as  if  trying  in 
vain  to  understand. 

"  She  doesn't  trust  you — and  you  can't  be  sur 
prised  at  that.  You've  got  to  get  her  the  man.  You've 
mismanaged  this  thing  from  the  start.  You've  driven 
her  on  and  on  until  now  there's  only  the  one  chance 
left." 

Richmond  did  not  contradict  this,  even  mentally. 
He  said  presently :  "  But  I've  talked  with  him  and  he 
won't  have  her." 

Again  Mrs.  Richmond  was  taken  by  surprise — so 
much  so  that  she  said:  "  What  did  you  say?  " 

Richmond  showed  his  wild  internal  commotion. 
341 


WHITE   MAGIC 


With  glittering  eyes  and  teeth  suggesting  that  they 
were  about  to  gnash  he  all  but  hissed :  "  Are  you  get 
ting  deaf?  I  said  I  had  talked  with  him,  and  he  won't 
have  her.  I  can't  make  the  man  marry  her — can  I  ?  " 

In  her  excitement,  in  her  amazement  Mrs.  Rich 
mond  leaned  forward  and  said  slowly :  "  Did  you  go  to 
him  and  give  him  permission  to  marry  Beatrice?" 

"  No,"  Richmond  confessed. 

"  Oh,"  said  his  wife  with  sarcasm,  "  you  went  to 
forbid  him  to  marry  her.  Why  do  you  deceive  me 
when  we're  in  such  a  dangerous  position  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  deceive  you,"  growled  he.  "  I  went  to 
make  sure  he  didn't  want  to  marry  her.  We  got  along 
all  right." 

Mrs.  Richmond  showed  relief.  "  Then  we're  in  a 
position  to  make  advances  to  him." 

"  I'll  make  no  more  advances !  "  cried  he  defiantly — 
blustering  defiance. 

"  I  suppose  you'd  rather  see  the  newspapers  full 
of  your  daughter  making  dresses  in  partnership  with  a 
maid  and  a  chauffeur,"  sneered  Mrs.  Richmond. 

He  winced  as  she  jabbed  surely  at  his  one  weak 
point — the  weakness  she  knew  so  well;  her  knowledge 
of  it  had  given  her  the  courage  to  attack  him.  And 
she  knew  also  that  his  one  belief  in  her,  his  one  use 
for  her^  was  her  skill  as  a  social  maneuverer. 


MBS.    RICHMOND    REBELS 

"  You'll  do  whatever  is  necessary,"  she  went'on.  "  I 
can't  understand  why  yon  were  so  opposed  to  her  mar 
rying.  He's  young,  but  famous  already.  He'll  be  a 
help." 

A  long  pause.  Then :  "  Yes,  he  can  paint,"  said 
Richmond  absently,  a  queer  look  in  his  usually  hard  and 
wicked  eyes. 

"  Of  course  he  can.  D'Artois  told  us  so.  I'll  go 
ask  him  to  dinner  on  my  way  home.  If  he  accepts  I'll 
telephone  Beatrice  to  come  down." 

"  Yes — that's  a  good  idea — excellent,"  said  Rich 
mond.  "  I  want  to  get  this  thing  settled.  It  has  un 
fitted  me  for  business.  A  few  weeks  more  of  it  and  I'll 
go  to  pieces.  Do  whatever  you  like.  I  don't  care,  so 
long  as  you  settle  things."  And  he  took  up  his  papers 
to  indicate  that  he  had  no  more  time  to  waste. 

"  I  hope  this  will  be  a  lesson  to  you,"  said  she. 
"  Next  time  any  trouble  comes  with  the  children  you'd 
better  leave  it  to  me." 

Richmond  muttered  something  into  his  papers. 
Mrs.  Richmond  issued  forth  in  dignity  and  in  triumph. 
No  one,  viewing  her  cold  and  haughty  face,  her  beau 
tiful,  expensive  toilet,  her  air  throughout  of  the  story 
book  aristocrat,  would  have  believed  her  capable  of  par 
ticipating  in  such  a  scene  as  she  and  her  husband  had 
just  enacted.  She  was  secure  from  suspicion  of  such 

343 


WHITE   MAGIC 


vulgarities — secure  behind  the  glamour  of  wealth  and 
fashion  that  veils  the  Richmond  kind  of  sordid  lives 
and  the  sordid  pursuits  that  engross  them. 

When  Mrs.  Richmond's  auto  stopped  before  Roger 
Wade's  gate  she  saw  him  reading  behind  the  leafy 
screen  of  the  front  veranda.  She  waited  and  watched  a 
moment  or  so,  but  he  did  not  glance  up. 

"  Give  the  horn  a  squeeze  or  so,"  said  she  to  the 
chauffeur. 

At  the  sound  of  three  sharp,  imperious  calls  the 
artist  slowly  lifted  his  eyes.  Mrs.  Richmond,  her  face 
at  the  open  window  of  her  limousine,  saw  him  observ 
ing  her  as  one  might  a  chance  passer-by  on  the  high 
road.  When  he  saw  that  she  was  seeing  him  he  rose 
and  advanced  toward  the  gate  at  a  pace  that  was  nei 
ther  fast  nor  slow — a  pace  somehow  discouraging  to 
Mrs.  Richmond.  She  awaited  him  with  a  smile  of  the 
most  flattering  warmth. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Wade?"  cried  she  as  he 
opened  the  gate,  and  out  went  her  gloved  hand  to  meet 
his  cordially.  "  You  have  treated  me  shamefully,"  she 
went  on.  "  But  one  who  is  nobody  must  take  what 
ever  treatment  a  great  man  gives  one  and  be  grateful 
that  it's  no  worse." 

The  big,  dark  man,  looking  extremely  handsome  in 


MRS.   RICHMOND   REBELS 

his  loose,  white  flannels,  laughed  amiably.  He  showed 
his  good  sense  by  attempting  no  reply.  He  simply 
stood  waiting. 

"  I've  stopped  to  ask  you  to  dine  with  us  to-morrow 
night — very  informally,"  said  she.  "  It'd  be  an  enor 
mous  favor,  as  we're  dreadfully  dull." 

"  All  this  is  very  kind,"  said  Roger,  "  but  I  can't 
come." 

"  Xow,  don't  say  that,"  urged  she,  her  manner 
making  her  insistence  seem  polite — a  manner  of  which 
she  was  admirably  mistress.  "  Mr.  Richmond  told  me 
this  afternoon  that  I  mustn't  take  no  for  an  answer. 
He  has  developed  a  great  admiration  and  liking  for 
you.  If  you're  not  refusing  just  out  of  unneighborli- 
ness,  perhaps  you'll  come  day  after  to-morrow  even 
ing?  " 

"  I'll  be  on  the  sea,"  said  Roger.  "  I'm  sailing  Sat 
urday  morning." 

"  So  suddenly !  "  cried  Mrs.  Richmond  with  an  ar 
resting  agitation  in  her  voice — obviously  not  the  agi- 
cation  of  pleasure,  but  of  alarm.  "  Then,  you  must 
come  to-morrow  evening.  It  is  our  last  chance  for 
better  acquaintance." 

"  Oh,  there's  Paris,"  said  Roger  carelessly.  His 
frank  eyes  were  regarding  her  with  a  puzzled  expres 
sion. 

23  345 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Mrs.  Richmond  flung  away  the  last  shred  of  pre 
tense  of  merely  social  purposes.  Her  eyes  pleaded  and 
her  voice  implored  as  she  said :  "  Mr.  Richmond  par 
ticularly  wished  to  see  you.  Can't  you  arrange  it — 
for  to-morrow  evening — or  this  evening?  " 

"  Thank  you.  It's  really  impossible."  And 
Roger's  tone  and  manner  were  a  courteous  but  final  re 
fusal  of  all  that  she  was  implying.  "  Will  you  trouble 
yourself  with  my  adieux  to  Mr.  Richmond  and  your 
daughter  ?  " 

"  I'm  so  disappointed  I  hardly  know  what  to  say," 
cried  Mrs.  Richmond  with  pathetic  appeal.  "  Do  for 
give  my  rudeness,  but " 

"  It's  quite  impossible  for  me  to  change  my  plans 
for  the  little  time  I  have  between  now  and  Saturday 
morning."  Roger  was  simply  polite — not  unfriendly, 
yet  certainly  not  friendly. 

Mrs.  Richmond's  handsome  eyes  veiled  their  anger 
behind  a  look  of  resigned  regret.  She  dared  not  quar 
rel  with  him,  must  part  with  him  on  friendly  terms. 
"  I  understand.  I  am  dreadfully  sorry.  But — as  you 
say,  there's  Paris.  We  haven't  your  address  there,  I 
believe." 

"  I  have  no  address,"  said  Roger.  "  I  shall  have  to 
find  a  place." 

"  D'Artois  will  know,"  said  Mrs.  Richmond  hastily, 
346 


MRS.    RICHMOND   REBELS 

to  cover  the  almost  blunt  refusal  to  continue  the  ac 
quaintance.     "  We  can  find  out  from  him." 

"  I  lead  rather  a  secluded  life  there,"  was  Roger's 
reply.  "  One  must  fight  constantly  against  the  temp 
tations  to  distraction.  But  I  needn't  explain  that  to 
the  wife  of  a  busy  man  of  affairs." 

"  No,  indeed,"  cried  she,  with  undiminished  cordial 
ity — and  she  did  not  find  it  difficult  to  be  cordial  to  a 
man  whose  charm  she  was  now  feeling,  hardly  the  less, 
perhaps  the  more,  because  he  was  defeating  her  will. 
"  Still,"  she  went  on,  "  we'll  venture  to  hope  that  you'll 
relent  a  little  and  not  look  on  us  altogether  as  intruders, 
Mr.  Wade." 

"  You  are  too  kind,  Mrs.  Richmond,"  said  Roger. 
He  made  as  much  of  a  move  toward  turning  away  as 
politeness  permitted. 

"  Again,  I'm  sorry — so  sorry,  about  dinner,"  said 
Mrs.  Richmond,  once  more  extending  her  hand.  She 
was  all  friendliness,  all  cordiality.  "  And  I'll  hope  you 
and  Fate  will  be  kinder  in  Paris.  Good-by.  Mr.  Rich 
mond  will  be  really  distressed.  And  Beatrice — 

Roger's  eyes  shifted.  A  faint  color  crept  into  his 
cheeks. 

"  She  will  think  you're  a  sadly  negligent  friend. 
She's  at  the  Wolcott.  If  you  are  in  town ' 

"  Unfortunately,   I'll   not   be,"   interrupted   Roger 
347 


WHITE   MAGIC 


curtly.  "  I'll  have  to^trust  to  you  to  make  my  apol 
ogies." 

Mrs.  Richmond  once  more  looked  defeated.  "  Don't 
forget  us,"  she  pleaded. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Roger  embarrassed. 

"  Good-by." 

Roger  bowed.  The  machine  got  under  way  and  dis 
appeared  in  a  cloud  of  dust  while  he  went  slowly  and 
moodily  back  to  the  veranda  to  take  up  his  book,  but 
not  to  read  it. 

As  Mrs.  Richmond's  auto  swung  into  the  terrace 
before  the  main  entrance  to  Red  Hill  Richmond's  auto 
departed,  having  just  set  him  down  upon  the  stone 
esplanade.  He  opened  the  door  of  the  car  for  his  wife. 
"Well?"  said  he  sharply. 

"  He  can't — that  is,  won't — come." 

"  I  thought  so." 

"  He's  sailing." 

"  I  know.     Next  week." 

"  No— Saturday." 

Richmond  startled.     "Day  after  to-morrow?" 

"  And  he  wouldn't  come  either  to-night  or  to-mor 
row  night." 

They  walked  in  silence  side  by  side  into  the  house. 

"  He's  a  splendidly  handsome  man,"  said  Mrs. 
Richmond.  "  Any  woman  would  be  proud  to  have 

348 


MRS.    RICHMOND    REBELS 

him  as  her  husband.  And  he  has  the  air  of  a  person 
age.  ...  I  must  telephone  Beatrice." 

"  You  must  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  ordered  Rich 
mond  in  the  tone  which,  when  he  first  had  begun  to  use 
it  with  her,  had  made  her  feel  like  a  servant.  "  You'll 
not  tempt  her  to  make  a  public  fool  of  herself." 

"  You  don't  understand  her,"  protested  Mrs.  Rich 
mond. 

"  No  matter.  No  telephoning.  Small,  timid  people 
never  can  understand  that  a  person  of  her  sort  has  un 
limited  capacity  for  reckless  folly." 

"But  what  are  we  to  do?"  demanded  his  wife. 

"  I'll  go  to  see  him." 

"To  say  what?" 

"  What  circumstances  may  dictate  after  I  get 
there,"  said  her  husband.  "  I'll  go  at  once." 

"  Yes — yes.     The  time's  very  short,"  cried  she. 

"  On  the  contrary,  there's  plenty  of  time." 

And  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  retraced  his  steps 
toward  the  door.  Mrs.  Richmond  paused  to  look 
pityingly  after  him ;  he  was  slightly  bent ;  his  step  had 
lost  its  spring.  Only  once  before  had  she  seen  him  so 
harassed — the  time  when  he  was  trying  to  negotiate 
apparently  impossible  loans  to  save  his  fortune  from 
ruin  and  himself  from  prison.  She  hated  him  with  what 
she  believed  to  be  an  implacable  hate.  In  fact,  she 


WHITE   MAGIC 


hated  him  only  because  he  would  not  let  her  love  him; 
he  fascinated  her,  a  woman  of  the  sort  that  crave  a 
master  and  really  love  the  servitude  they  profess  to 
loathe.  She  rejoiced  in  his  defeats ;  she  delighted  to 
waste  his  money  where  she  could  not  sequester  it.  But 
her  soul  did  homage  to  him  as  its  lord.  She  looked 
after  him  longingly ;  she  would  have  given  a  good  part 
of  her  possessions  to  be  an  unseen  and  unsuspected 
spectator  at  the  scene  between  him  and  Roger.  For 
she  would  have  staked  all  she  had  on  Roger's  admin 
istering  to  him  the  defeat  of  his  life. 


XIX 

KOGER    SORE    BESET 

ROGER  still  seated  on  his  front  veranda  behind  the 
curtain  of  creepers,  was  not  a  little  astonished  to  see 
that  the  solitary  occupant  of  the  runabout  stopping  at 
his  gate  was  Beatrice's  father.  His  astonishment  did 
not  decrease  when  the  little  big  financier,  advancing 
briskly  up  the  gravel  walk  edged  by  flowering  plants, 
hailed  the  first  clear  view  of  his  face  with  a  smile  of  the 
utmost  geniality — the  greeting  of  an  old  and  dear 
friend. 

"  I've  come  about  that  picture,"  Richmond  has 
tened  to  explain.  "  I  wish — for  my  own  sake — I'd  seen, 
it  sooner.  If  you'll  pardon  an  old  man — at  least,  a 
much  older  man  than  yourself — for  being  quite  frank 
— it  has  given  me  an  entirely  different  opinion  of  you. 
It  has  made  me  very  proud  of  my  acquaintance  with 
you.  I  know  that's  blunt — but  it's  sincere." 

Roger  was  as  fond  of  praise  as  the  next  human 
being.  He  had  cultivated  the  philosophy  of  indiffer 
ence  only  to  uncritical  censure.  He  blushed  and  stam 
mered  out  some  awkward  words  of  thanks — certainly 

351 


WHITE   MAGIC 


not  the  less  awkward  for  the  uneasiness  Richmond's 
manner  had  raised  within  him. 

"  My  wife  and  my  daughter  were  quite  right  and 
I  was  wrong — stupidly  wrong,"  continued  Richmond. 
They  were  seated  now.  "  I'm  not  an  art  expert — and 
not  imagining  I  was  or  pretending  to  he  has  saved  me 
thousands  of  dollars  and  a  lot  of  fake  art  stuff.  But, 
at  the  same  time,  a  man  who  amounts  to  anything  in 
any  line  always  appreciates  good  work  in  every  other 
line — whether  he  likes  it  or  not.  So — I  want  that  pic 
ture.  Isn't  there  anything  I  could  say  or  do  that 
would  induce  you  to  change  your  mind  and  let  me 
have  it?" 

Roger's  brow  clouded  again ;  a  strange,  absent 
look  was  in  his  eyes — the  eyes  of  an  artist,  sensitive, 
sympathetic,  penetrating,  yet  devoid  of  the  least  sug 
gestion  of  craft.  "  I've  been  thinking  that  matter 
over,"  said  he  with  an  effort.  "  I  have  decided  not  to 
take  the  picture  with  me.  So — you  can  have  it — if 
you'll  accept  it." 

"  My  dear  Wade ! "  exclaimed  Richmond,  all  en 
thusiasm.  "  But  you  must  be  generous  with  me.  You 
must  let  me  give  you  something  in  return.  You  know 
how  burdensome  a  sense  of  unacquitted  obligation  is. 
'All  I  have  to  give  is  money,  unfortunately.  You  must 
let  me  give  that.  It  is  the  right  of  you  fellows  to  ex- 

352 


ROGER    SORE   BESET 


pect  it  from  us  fellows.     It's  our  privilege  to  give  it." 

Roger,  unaware  of  the  many  sides  to  the  extraor 
dinary  man  seated  opposite  him,  was  wholly  unpre 
pared  for  so  adroit  and  graceful  and  sensible  a  speech. 
He  could  only  make  an  impatient  gesture  and  say  with 
a  decisiveness  that  seemed  rude :  "  The  picture  has  no 
money  value.  I'll  have  to  insist  on  your  taking  it  on 
my  terms — or  I'll  give  it  to  some  one  else.  For  I  shall 
not  carry  it  abroad  with  me." 

"  That  brings  me  to  the  main  reason  for  my  com 
ing,"  said  Richmond,  leaning  forward,  elbows  on  the 
broad  arms  of  the  chair. 

Roger  was  all  at  sea  again.  With  Richmond's  re 
quest  for  the  picture  he  had  jumped  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  really  the  sole  cause  of  the  two  visits  of  that 
afternoon  and  the  two  exhibitions  of  sultry  affability. 
Now — what  new  complication  was  Richmond  about  to 
disclose  ? — what  new  obstacle  was  about  to  appear  in  his 
path  back  to  peace  and  whole-hearted  work? 

The  financier  did  not  keep  him  long  in  suspense. 
"  I  want  to  persuade  you  not  to  go  abroad,"  he  pro 
ceeded.  "  Now — please  hear  me  out  •  You  are  an 
American.  Your  proper  place  is  here — your  own 
country.  It  needs  you,  and  you  owe  it  the  services  of 
your  genius." 

Roger  eyed  his  guest  with  candid  suspicion.  Guile 
353 


WHITE   MAGIC 


being  foreign  to  his  nature,  he  knew  of  its  existence 
in  his  fellow-beings  only  as  an  incomprehensible  but 
undeniable  fact.  He  knew  Richmond  was  a  man  of 
guile.  Yet  these  sincere  tones,  these  frank  and  friendly 
eyes —  Also,  what  possible  motive  could  the  man  have  ? 
Perhaps  the  picture  had  really  converted  him  into  a 
friend  and  admirer,  unafraid  now  that  there  was  no 
longer  reason  to  suspect  matrimonial  designs. 

"  Don't  affect  a  modesty  a  man  of  your  abilities 
could  not  possibly  feel,"  said  Richmond,  misunder 
standing  or  pretending  to  misunderstand  Roger's  em 
barrassed  silence.  "  Only  mediocrity  is  modest,  and  it 
is  the  crowd  of  fools  that  compels  us,  who  can  do  things 
and  have  sense  enough  to  know  we  can,  to  pretend  to 
be  modest." 

Roger  laughed.  "  There's  truth  in  that,"  said  he. 
"  Still,  I'm  sure  my  fate  is  a  matter  of  importance  only 
to  myself."  His  expression  settled  to  somberness 
again.  "  No,  I  shall  go.  Thank  you,  but  I  shall  go." 

"  There  is  work  for  you  here — big  work,"  urged 
Richmond.  "  I  shall  see  that  you  get  it — that  you 
don't  have  to  wait  for  recognition  and  be  wearied  and 
disgusted  by  the  stupid  injustices  that  keep  men  of 
genius  out  of  their  own." 

Roger's  simple  and  generous  face  softened,  for  his 
heart  was  touched.  "  I  see  you  understand,"  said  he. 

354 


ROGER    SORE   BESET 


"  I  wish  I  could  show  my  appreciation  by  accepting 
your  offer.     But  I  can't.     I  must  go." 

"  I  admit  that  the  atmosphere  over  there  is  more 
congenial — much  more  congenial — to  your  sort  of 
work.  But  you'll  find  us  less  unsympathetic  than  you 
think.  Give  us  a  trial,  Wade." 

Roger  was  entirely  convinced  now,  and  was  deeply 
moved.  "  I  wish  I  could,  Mr.  Richmond.  But  if  I  am 
to  work  I  must  go." 

The  older  man  leaned  still  farther  toward  the 
young  man  in  his  earnestness.  "  Why,  you  painted 
here  one  of  the  greatest  pictures  I've  seen.  Of  course, 
my  personal  feeling  may  bias  my  judgment  somewhat — 
for  I  am  attached  to  my  daughter  as  I  am  to  no  other 
human  being  " — Richmond's  voice  trembled,  and  there 
were  tears  in  his  eyes — "  I'm  a  fool  about  her,  Wade — 
a  damn  fool!  .  .  .  Excuse  my  gettting  off  the  track. 
As  I  was  saying,  I  may  think  the  picture  greater  than 
it  really  is.  But  I  know  that  it  is  really  great — 
great !  " 

Roger  tried  to  conceal  his  agitation. 

"  You  painted  it  here.  That  means,  you  can  do 
great  work  here.  Did  you  ever  paint  a  better  picture 
in  Europe?  " 

"  No,"  admitted  Roger. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  stay." 
355 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  rose,  seated  himself,  lit  a  fresh  cigarette. 
"  Can't  do  it,"  he  said  curtly.  "  Let's  say  no  more 
about  it.  Don't  think  me  rude  or  unappreciative.  But 
— you  must  take  my  decision  as  final." 

"  I'm  older  than  you,  Wade — twice  as  old.  You 
are  a  young  man,  just  starting.  I'm  about  all  in.  So, 
I  don't  feel  that  I'm  impertinent  in  pressing  you." 

Again  Roger  rose.  This  time  he  went  to  the  edge 
of  the  veranda.  At  the  steps  he  turned  suddenly. 
"  Don't  think  me  unappreciative,  sir,"  said  he,  "  but 
this  is  painful  to  me — very  painful." 

Richmond  put  on  a  most  effective  air  of  apology. 
66  I'm  sorry — I  beg  your  pardon — I  did  not  mean  to 
intrude  upon  your  private  affairs.  I  was  assuming  you 
were  free.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  there  might 
be  obligations  over  there " 

"  I  am  free !  "  cried  Roger.  "  At  least,  I  was.  And 
I  intend  to  be  so  again.  But — enough  of  this — of  me. 
I'll  send  you  the  picture —  No,  I'll  see  that  it  is  sent 
on  Saturday." 

Richmond  regarded  the  young  man  with  the  eyes 
of  a  father  and  a  friend.  He  went  up  to  him,  laid  one 
hand  affectionately  on  his  arm.  "  I  know  you  don't 
want  to  leave  America — give  up  your  ambition — the 
one  that  brought  you  here,  so  d'Artois  says.  Tell  me. 
Can't  it  be  arranged  somehow  ?  " 

356 


EOGEE    SOEE    BESET 


"  Impossible,"  said  Roger. 

Richmond  laughed  gently.  "  A  word  for  boys  and 
for  old  failures.  .  .  .  Can't  you  induce  her  to  live  on 
this  side  of  the  water?" 

Roger  looked  puzzled. 

"  It's  always  a  woman,"  said  Richmond,  eyes  twink 
ling.  "  If  she  really  cares  for  you  she'll  live  wherever 
your  career  demands." 

Roger's  smile  of  exaggerated  disdain  revealed  how 
much  of  the  boy  he  was  taking  with  him  into  the  thir 
ties.  "  You  are  mistaken,"  said  he.  "  No  woman  has 
ever  dominated  my  life."  His  face  grew  stern  again 
and  energetic.  "  And  no  woman  ever  shall !  " 

"That's  right— that's  right,"  heartily  approved 
Richmond.  "  Woman  in  the  wrong  place  in  a  man's 
life  is  almost  as  bad  as  if  she  were  left  out  entirely. 
Almost — but  not  quite." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  Roger. 

"  Did  you  ever  happen  to  know  a  man  who  had  left 
woman  out  altogether  ?  "  inquired  Richmond. 

"  No — but  I've  seen  many  and  many  a  life — an 
artist's  life — wrecked  by  women — by  marriage." 

Richmond  took  advantage  of  Roger's  averted  face 
to  indulge  in  a  smile  of  satisfaction.  He  went  on  in 
a  careless  tone  that  had  no  relationship  to  the  smile: 
"  Probably  those  chaps  wouldn't  have  amounted  to 

357 


WHITE   MAGIC 


much,  anyhow.  The  man  who  has  it  in  him  to  be 
wrecked  by  excess  of  any  kind  is  bound  to  go  under. 
Nothing  can  save  him." 

"  No  doubt,"  assented  Roger,  with  assumed  indif 
ference.  The  point  Richmond  had  just  made  was  new, 
was  impressive — appealed  disquietingly  to  the  young 
man's  pride  as  well  as  to  his  intelligence.  For  the  first 
time  he  looked  upon  his  visitor  as  a  dangerous  man. 
He  stood  at  the  edge  of  the  veranda  in  that  expectant 
silence  which  compels  a  caller  either  to  show  cause  why 
he  should  stay  or  to  take  himself  off.  Richmond  cov 
ered  his  defeat  and  his  embarrassment  by  returning  to 
his  chair  and  seating  himself  in  the  attitude  of  one  far 
from  the  end  of  a  leisurely  and  intimate  visit.  Roger 
could  do  nothing  but  reluctantly  reseat  himself.  They 
smoked  in  silence  a  few  minutes;  then  Richmond  said 
reflectively : 

"  So — you're  opposed  to  marriage?  " 

"  Unalterably,"  said  Roger. 

"  I  remember  now.  You  said  that  to  me  the  other 
day  when  " — Richmond  laughed  with  frank  good  hu 
mor — "  when  I  was  suspecting  you  of  designs  on  my 
daughter — or,  rather,  on  my  fortune.  How  absurd 
that  seems  now.  But  I  had  some  excuse.  I  didn't  know 
you  then.  If  I  had  I  might  not  have  been  so  well 
pleased  by  your  views  on  matrimony." 

358 


EOGEE   SORE   BESET 


As  these  words  flowed  fluently  from  Richmond's 
gracious  tongue  Roger  cast  at  him  a  furtive  glance  of 
amazed  suspicion. 

"  My  older  daughter,"  continued  Richmond,  "  is 
a  thoroughly  worldly  woman.  She  has  married  a  title 
— and  is  as  happy  as  a  normal  woman  would  be  over 
getting  the  man  of  her  heart's  choice.  But  my  other 
daughter " 

Roger  moved  uncomfortably  in  his  chair.  Could  it  be 
possible —  No!  No!  Ridiculous!  And  yet — Preposter 
ous!  As  little  danger  of  it  as  of  Roger  himself  giving  in. 

"  Beatrice  " — Richmond  pronounced  the  name  with 
tenderness — and  tenderness  now  seemed  as  essentially 
one  of  his  traits  as  hardness  or  cruelty  or  tyranny — 
"  Beatrice  is  entirely  different.  But  you  know  her. 
You  artists  read  character.  I  needn't  tell  you  she  is 
delightfully  unworldly — foolishly  romantic — need  I?  " 

"  No,"  said  Roger  in  a  hurried,  harried  way. 

"  Your  painting  shows  how  thoroughly  you  under 
stood — appreciated  her.  Wade,  one  of  the  finest  things 
I  ever  knew  a  man  to  do  was  your  refusal  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  her  inexperienced  young  imagination.  It 
was  noble — noble!  " 

Roger  looked  wretched.  "  I — I  don't  deserve 
that,"  was  his  stammering  but  vigorous  protest.  "  My 
motive  was  altogether  different — wholly  selfish." 

359 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"Oh,  come,  now,"  cried  the  older  man  jocosely, 
"  she's  not  so  unattractive.  A  man  less  scrupulous,  less 
honorable — might  easily  have  fancied  himself  in  love 
with  her.  You'll  admit  that — won't  you?  " 

Roger  was  braced  well  back  in  his  chair.  "  Yes," 
said  he  in  a  tone  not  remotely  suggestive  of  terror. 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  embarrass  you,  Wade,"  laughed 
Richmond. 

"  Not  at  all — not  at  all,"  said  Roger,  his  panic  lu 
dicrously  obvious. 

"  So — it  was  really  noble  of  you." 

"  I  can't  permit  that,  sir,"  said  Roger.  "  My  only 
motive  was  my  determination  never  to  marry." 

"  I  don't  like  to  hear  you  say  that,"  said  Rich 
mond.  "  As  the  father  of  a  daughter,  as  a  man  who 
wishes  to  see  his  daughter  in  the  keeping  of  a  man  of 
the  right  sort — and  how  few  such  there  are ! — I  don't 
like  to  hear  any  of  those  few  declare  against  matri 
mony." 

There  was  no  misunderstanding  the  trend  of  this. 
Incredible  though  it  seemed,  the  man  had  come  round, 
was  abetting  his  daughter  in  her  willful  whim  of  con 
quest  !  "  I'm  not  opposed  to  marriage — for  others," 
said  Roger  awkwardly.  "  I  simply  feel  that  it  is  not 
wise  for  me.  If  a  man  whose  life  is  given  to  creative 
work  marries  a  woman  he  loves  he  is  content.  It  is  the 

360 


ROGER    SOHE   BESET 


end  of  achievement,  of  ambition.  Why  strive  after  the 
lesser  when  what  seems  to  him  the  greater  has  been 
achieved?  If  such  a  man  marries  unfortunately  then 
the  bitterness  and  the  agitations  destroy  his  ability  to 
create.  Happy  marriage  suffocates  genius,  unhappy 
marriage  strangles  it.  Death  inevitable — in  either 
case." 

The  words  were  not  unlike  those  he  had  used  in  de 
scribing  his  position  to  Beatrice.  His  manner — the 
tone,  the  look  of  the  eyes,  the  expression  of  mouth  and 
chin — made  them  seem  entirely  different,  far  more  pro 
foundly  significant.  A  man,  a  serious  man,  rarely  re 
veals  his  innermost  self  to  a  woman  unless  he  and  she 
have  reached  a  far  closer  intimacy  than  Roger  had  per 
mitted  with  Beatrice.  But  talking  with  Richmond, 
with  another  man,  one  who  could  and  would  understand 
and  sympathize,  Roger  exposed  a  side  of  his  nature  of 
the  existence  of  which  Beatrice  had  only  a  faint  intui 
tion,  no  direct  or  definite  knowledge.  Richmond  had 
been  pushed  by  the  portrait  well  toward  conviction  of 
Roger's  high  rank  in  the  aristocracy  he  esteemed  as 
a  man  among  men.  He  was  now  wholly  convinced. 
His  daughter,  he  saw,  had  chosen  more  wisely  than  he 
knew. 

"  I  see  your  point,"  said  Richmond  slowly,  thought 
fully.     "  I  see  your  point." 
24  361 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  showed  his  deep  sense  of  relief. 

"  It  is  a  good  one — a  very  good  one." 

Roger's  tension  visibly  relaxed. 

"  It  is  unanswerable,"  was  Richmond's  final,  sweep 
ing  concession. 

"  Unanswerable,"  echoed  the  painter  decisively,  yet 
with  a  curious  note  of  unhappiness. 

"  But,"  pursued  Beatrice's  father,  "  what  would 
you  do — if  you  fell  in  love  ?  "  And,  ignoring  the 
painter's  confusion  in  the  bursting  of  this  bomb,  he 
went  on  with  an  air  of  philosophic  impartiality :  "  Love 
laughs  at  reason — at  ambition — at  calculation  of  every 
kind.  Yes — I — about  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  be 
suspected  of  sentimentality — I  say  that  love  is  supreme 
master." 

Roger,  with  an  air  of  youthful  positiveness — cock- 
sureness — made  a  gesture  of  strong  dissent. 

Richmond  smiled,  went  on :  "  Yes,  young  man — 
yes!  When  love  commands  we  all  obey — you — I — all — 
we  obey.  We  may  squirm — struggle — but  we  surrender. 
What  would  you  do  if  you  fell  in  love?  " 

Roger  leaned  forward  in  his  chair,  looked  firmly 
into  the  keen,  kindly  eyes  of  Beatrice's  father.  "  I 
should  fly,"  said  he  slowly. 

The  two  men  regarded  each  other  steadily,  each 
reading  the  other's  mind.  And  again  beneath  the 

362 


ROGER   SORE   BESET 


young  and  romantic  handsomeness  Richmond  saw  the 
man  with  whom  his  daughter  was  not  yet  acquainted — 
the  man  with  the  great  character  gracefully  concealed 
behind  the  romantic-looking  painter — a  character  in 
the  making  as  yet,  but  having  the  imposing  outlines 
that  enable  one  to  imagine  something  of  the  final  form. 
At  last  Richmond  said :  "  Yes — I  believe — you — could 
— fly — and  would.'99 

Roger  flushed  and  his  gaze  sank.  "  I  should  feel 
that  I  was  false  to  all  that  means  myself  to  me  if  I  did 
not,"  said  he.  "  No  matter  how  I  loved  her  I  would 

fly." 

"And  she?"  inquired  Richmond.  "What  about 
her?" 

Roger  smiled  faintly — a  sardonic  smile.  "  Women 
forget  their  caprices  easily." 

"Would  you  forget  easily?"  said  the  older  man 
gently — he  looked  very  old  and  very  gentle  and  kind. 

The  handsome  face  of  the  young  painter  grew 
grave.  "  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  he.  "  But  if  /  could 
forget  a — a  reality,  certainly  she  could  forget  a  fancy." 

No  one — except  perhaps  his  wife,  with  her  memo 
ries  of  Richmond's  ardent  and  generous  youth  when  he 
had  wooed  and  won  her  despite  her  father's  misgivings 
about  his  poverty  and  her  own  misgivings  about  his 
size — but  certainly  no  one  else  would  have  recognized 

363 


WHITE   MAGIC 


the  face  of  Daniel  Richmond  as  he  replied :  "  Not  if  she 
had,  by  some  divine  instinct,  understood  and  appre 
ciated  such  a  jca,re  man  as  you." 

Roger's  impatient  gesture  was  almost  angry.  "  I 
am  not  a  man.  I  am  a  painter." 

"  And  if  she  did  not  forget  ?  "  persisted  Richmond 
in  the  same  slow,  insistent  way,  like  conscience  itself. 
"  If  it  was  not  a  whim  ?  " 

Roger  stood  up.  "  I  don't  grant  your  supposi 
tion,"  said  he.  "  But,  granting  it,  then  at  least  I'd 
not  have  made  a  mess  of  her  life  and  of  my  own.  For 
if  I  were  false  to  my  art  it  would  revenge  itself  by  tor 
menting  me.  And  the  wife  of  a  tormented  man  is  not 
happy." 

Richmond  sat  staring  at  the  floor  of  the  veranda. 
The  wrinkles  and  seams  and  hollows  in  his  face  seemed 
to  be  deepening.  After  a  few  minutes  of  silence,  dis 
turbed  by  the  irritating  noisiness  of  a  flock  of  spar 
rows,  he  said :  "  She  refuses  to  come  home.  I  offered 
to  concede — everything.  I'd  be  glad  to  let  her  have 
her  way.  But,  as  you  say,  it's  impossible.  She'll  not 
come  home.  She  blames  me.  I  thought  I  was  alto 
gether  to  blame.  I  see  I'm  not.  But — she  blames  me, 
and  always  will.  And  she'll  not  make  it  up  with  me." 
A  long  pause,  then  there  came  from  him  in  a  mere  ghost 
of  his  normal  voice :  "  And — it  is  killing  me." 

364 


ROGER   SORE   BESET 


Roger  sat  motionless,  gazing  at  the  bed  of  sweet 
old-fashioned  flowers  before  the  veranda. 

Richmond  broke  the  long  stretch  of  evening  still 
ness  :  "  Would  you — would  it  be  asking  too  much  of 
you —  If  you  saw  her  you  might  persuade  her  to 
make  it  up  with  me." 

Roger  did  not  move — did  not  reply.  He  had  re 
treated  deep  within  himself. 

"  I  know  it  isn't  fair  to  you — or  to  her — to  ask 
it,"  went  on  her  father's  sad,  monotonous  voice,  heavy 
with  heartache.  "  I  know  that  seeing  her  again  would 
only  make  it  harder  for  you  to  do  what  you've  got  to 
do — for  I  understand  about  those  musts  of  ambition 
that  make  men  like  us  relentless.  And  I  know  that  see 
ing  you  again — and  seeing  even  more  clearly  the  man 
you  are — would  make  it — impossible,  perhaps,  for  her 
to  forget.  But — "  Richmond  paused  long  before 
adding —  "  I  am  an  old  man  and — I  have  the  selfish 
ness  of  those  who  have  not  long  to  live." 

Roger  stiU  neither  moved  nor  spoke. 

Richmond  observed  him  for  a  while,  rose  with  a 
painful  effort.  "  Good-by,"  he  said,  extending  his 
hand. 

Roger  stood,  took  his  hand.  "  I'd  do  it  if  I  could 
— if  I  were  strong  enough,"  he  said.  "  It's  humiliat 
ing,  but  I  have  to  confess  I  am  not." 

365 


WHITE  MAGIC 


"  Think  it  over,  Wade.  Do  the  best  you  can 
for  me." 

And  Richmond,  his  feet  almost  shuffling,  went  down 
the  steps  and  down  the  walk  and  out  through  the  gate. 
He  climbed  heavily  into  his  runabout — was  gone. 
Roger  leaned  against  the  pillar,  staring  into  vacancy, 
until  the  old  woman  had  twice  called  him  to  supper. 


XX 

BEATRICE    LOSES 

BEATRICE  and  Miss  Clermont  were  finishing  break 
fast  the  following  morning  when  Richmond  came.  As 
he  entered  the  small  sitting  room  with  its  bed  folded 
away  into  a  lounge  he  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his 
feelings.  In  response  to  Beatrice's  look  of  defiance  he 
sent  to  her  from  his  haggard  face  a  glance  of  humble 
appeal — the  look  of  the  beaten  and  impotent  tyrant — 
for  the  pride  of  the  tyrant  is  not  in  himself,  but  in  his 
power,  and  vanishes  with  it.  "  I'd  like  to  see  you 
alone,"  said  he,  ignoring  Valentine  as  a  servant. 

"  My  partner,  Miss  Clermont,"  said  Beatrice,  in 
the  tone  of  making  an  introduction. 

Richmond's  natural  quickness  did  not  fail  him.  He 
instantly  repaired  his  mistake.  "  Miss  Clermont,"  said 
he,  bowing  politely.  Then,  "  Pardon  my  abruptness. 
I  am  much  upset  in  mind." 

Miss  Clermont,  who  was  now  thoroughly  adapted 
to  her  new  rank,  smiled  politely  and  glided  into  the  ad 
joining  rcom,  closing  the  door  behind  her.  Said  Bea 
trice  :  "  You  can't  imagine  how  splendid  she  is.  We 

367 


WHITE   MAGIC 


shall  make  a  fortune.  I'm  sure  we  shall.  We  have 
rented  a  shop — in  Thirty-second  Street — south  side — 
three  doors  from  Fifth  Avenue.  Frightful  rent,  but  I 
insisted  on  beginning  at  the  top." 

"  I  saw  Wade  yesterday  afternoon,"  said  Rich 
mond. 

The  animation  died  out  of  the  girl's  face.  And 
with  its  animation  departed  most  of  its  beauty,  at 
least  most  of  its  charm. 

"  I  practically  asked  him  to  marry  you." 

Her  eyes  lit  up,  immediately  became  dull  again. 

"  He  was  polite — everything  a  man  could  be.  But 
he — he  will  never  marry." 

"  Until  he  loves,"  murmured  Beatrice. 

"  There  are  men — "  began  Richmond. 

"  But  they  don't  love !  "  exclaimed  Beatrice. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  Richmond,  who  would  not  have 
ventured  to  discuss  anything  with  her,  however  mildly. 
Also,  no  woman,  no  young  woman  could  be  expected  to 
understand  that  marriage  was  not  the  one  absorbing 
longing  of  every  unattached  man,  as  it  was  of  every  un 
attached  woman.  "Anyhow,  he  will  never  marry." 

"  Until  he  loves,"  repeated  Beatrice. 

Richmond  was  silent.  He  would  not  aggravate  her 
unhappiness  by  telling  her  that  Roger  loved  her. 

"  Is  he  still  intending  to  go  abroad?  "  she  asked. 
368 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


"  To-morrow,"  replied  her  father. 

"  To-morrow !  "  Beatrice  started  from  her  chair, 
an  expression  of  wild  disorder  flashing  into  her  face. 
But  she  fought  for  and  regained  control,  sat  back 
quietly  with  a  calm,  "  Oh,  I  thought  it  was  to  be  next 
week." 

"  He  has  changed  his  plans." 

The  daughter  was  looking  at  the  father  with  scru 
tinizing  eyes,  full  of  doubt.  He  saw  it,  said  in  the  tone 
that  carried  conviction,  "  I  have  come  over  to  your 
side.  He  is  a  much  bigger  man  than  I  thought — or 
than  you  know." 

"  I  know  enough,"  said  the  girl. 

"  At  any  rate,  I  wanted  him  for  a  son-in-law.  I  did 
my  best.  I  haven't  anything  he  wants." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Beatrice  with  a  bitter,  self-scorning 
laugh. 

"  He  is  opposed  to  marriage.     He  thinks " 

"  He  doesn't  love,"  interrupted  she.  "  That's  the 
whole  story.  Well" — she  made  a  gesture  of  dismissal 
— "  now,  let  me  tell  you  about  the  shop." 

"  He  has  sent- 

"  Please !  "  said  she  imperiously.  "  Xo  more  about 
him." 

"  The  picture — he  promised  to  have  it  sent  to  Red 
Hill  after  he  sailed.     Instead,  it  came  last  night." 
25  369 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  Why  did  he  do  that?  "  demanded  she  swiftly. 

"  I  asked  him  for  it." 

"  No.     I  mean,  why  did  he  change  his  mind  ?  " 

"  Oh,  probably  for  no  reason.     That's  a  trifle." 

She  was  sitting  up,  straight  and  alert.  Her  eyes 
were  aglow  with  excitement.  "  He  is  sailing  to-morrow 
instead  of  next  week,"  she  said  rapidly.  "  Instead  of 
taking  my  picture — our  picture — his  and  mine — in 
stead  of  taking  it  with  him  as  he  intended  at  first,  he 
gives  it  to  you.  He  first  says  he'll  send  it  when  he  sails, 
then — after  he  has  talked  with  you — he  changes  his 
mind  and  gets  it  out  of  the  house^— out  of  his  sight — 
at  once." 

Richmond  gazed  at  her  with  marveling  eyes.  She 
was  clairvoyant — this  wonderful  daughter  of  his! 

Her  cheeks  flushed,  her  eyes  sparkled.  Her  words 
came  joyfully  tumbling  over  each  other:  "Why  is  he 
in  such  a  hurry  to  sail — to  get  rid  of  my  picture? 
Because  he's  afraid!  He  distrusts  himself.  He's  fight 
ing  hard.  He —  Father,  he  loves  me !  " 

"  Beatrice,"  said  Richmond  tenderly,  "  he  will 
never  marry.  He  is  a  man  of  the  unshakable  sort — 
of  my  sort " 

Beatrice  laughed.  "  You  haven't  changed  in  this 
affair — oh,  no !  " 

Richmond  smiled  guiltily.  "  I  should  have  said,  he 
370 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


is  a  man  whose  resolves  haven't  been  shaken  by  age  and 
by  foolish  paternal  fondness  long  indulged." 

"  He  is  afraid!     He  is  flying — flying  from  love!  " 

Richmond's  face  wore  a  look  of  deepest  anxiety. 
"  My  dear,  you  will  only  distress  yourself  with  false 
hopes.  There  are  things  about  men — men  like  him — 
that  you  don't  understand." 

"  Of  course.  But  there  are  also  other  things  that 
you  don't  understand,  father  dear." 

"  The  picture  is  at  home.  Won't  you  come  and 
see  it?" 

"  I  must  see  him  first.  I  must  dress  and  go  at 
once."  And  she  was  up  and  was  hastily  gathering  to 
gether  the  businesslike  papers  strewn  upon  the  table 
among  the  breakfast  dishes.  "  You'll  excuse  me, 
father " 

"  I  asked  him  to  come  and  see  you — to  beg  you  to 
go  home  again." 

She  paused.     "  And  he  said?  " 

"  He  refused  at  first.  As  I  was  leaving — I  hoped 
—he  might." 

She  reflected.  "  No,  he'll  not  come.  Unless — but 
I'll  take  no  chances." 

"  I  know  he  was  touched  by  my  appeal,"  persisted 
her  father.  "  Beatrice — go  on  with  this  dressmaking 
if  you  must.  But — forgive  me  and  let  things  be  witk 

371 


WHITE   MAGIC 


us  as  they  were  before."  He  stretched  out  trembling 
hands  toward  her.  "  You're  all  I've  got  in  the  world — 
all  I  care  for.  I'm  not  ashamed  or  repentant  for  what 
I  did.  I  did  it  because  I  thought  it  was  for  your  good. 
But  I'm  sorry.  I  was  mistaken." 

"  I  do  forgive  you,"  said  the  girl,  "  though  I  don't 
like  to  say  anything  that  sounds  priggish  and  pious. 
But  you  can't  expect  me  to  trust  you,  can  you, 
father?" 

"  I've  tried  to  pay  for  those  bonds,  but  he  has  sold 
them  to  some  enemy  of  mine — and  for  a  good  price." 

"  Aren't  you  ashamed  about  the  bonds  ?  "  said  the 
daughter  with  a  roguish  smile. 

"  No,"  replied  Richmond  doggedly.  "  In  the  cir 
cumstances — what  I  believed  and  everything — that  was 
the  right  move." 

Beatrice  laughed  with  a  touch  of  her  old  mirthful- 
ness,  with  all  her  old  adoration  of  his  skill  and  courage. 
"  You  are  so  different !  "  cried  she.  "  Not  a  bit  a  hypo 
crite.  We're  friends  again — until  you  try  to  under 
mine  and  ruin  my  dressmaking  business." 

"  I'll  give  you  all  the  capital  you  want,"  he  eagerly 
declared. 

«  No— thanks,"  said  she.  "  But—I'll  tell  you  what 
you  may  do.  You  may  buy  a  block  of  Wauchong  bonds 
I  happen  to  own." 

672 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


"  You  did  it  ?  "  cried  he,  delighted. 

"  You  may  have  them  at  a  hundred  and  fifty.  I  al 
ways  try  to  make  a  reasonable  profit  on  a  deal." 

"  I'll  send  you  a  blank  check." 

She  put  her  arms  round  him  and  kissed  him.  There 
was  a  trembling  in  his  tight  return  embrace  that  sent 
a  pang  through  her ;  for  it  suggested  somehow  his  deep 
impelling  thought — fear — of  the  eternal  separation — 
the  everlasting  farewell,  not  far  away  from  him  and  her 
at  the  most.  "  Father — dear,"  she  murmured. 

"  Don't  harass  yourself,  child — about  him,"  he 
whispered.  "  Let  me  help  you  try  to  forget." 

She  drew  away  gently  and  looked  at  him,  in  her 
eyes  a  will  which  he  now  admitted — proudly — to  be 
more  unswerving  than  his  own.  Said  she :  "  You  didn't 
teach  me  to  forget — or  to  give  up,  either." 

He  sighed.  "  I'll  wait  and  take  you  to  the  ferry." 
And  she  went  into  her  bedroom. 

She  had  been  dressing  perhaps  ten  minutes  when  he 
rapped  excitedly  on  her  door.  "  What  is  it?  "  inquired 
she. 

"  He's  come !  "  cried  her  father. 

The  door  swung  partly  open  and  her  face  appeared 
at  the  edge.  "Roger?  Downstairs?" 

66  Yes — I  answered  the  telephone  from  the  office." 

"  I   can't   receive  him  up   here.      It's   against   the 
373 


WHITE   MAGIC 


rules.  Yet  I  want —  No — say  I'll  be  down  to  the 
parlor  immediately." 

"  But  I'm  here,"  suggested  her  father.  "  He  could 
come  up." 

"  He  mustn't  see  you."  , 

"  I  could  wait  in  there — couldn't  I  ?  " 

"  Yes — the  door  is  thick,"  reflected  Beatrice  aloud. 
"  Yes — say  he  is  to  come  up.  Val — Miss  Clermont  has 
gone  out.  .  .  .  No — I'll  see  him  in  the  parlor." 

And  Beatrice  closed  the  door.  It  was  not  many  min 
utes  before  she  opened  it  again — to  appear  bewitching- 
ly  dressed  in  a  new  spring  toilet — and  the  styles  that 
year  were  exactly  suited  to  her  figure.  She  was  radi 
ant,  and  her  father's  depressed  countenance  did  not 
lessen  her  overflowing  delight.  "  You  can't  deny  that 
he  loves  me — can  you  ?  "  cried  she. 

"  No,"  replied  Richmond.  "  The  fact  is,  I  saw  he 
did  yesterday." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  "  demanded  she. 

"  You  guessed  it.     What  was  the  use?  "  evaded  he. 

"Guess?"  The  girl  laughed.  "  You  call  that 
guessing  because  you're  merely  a  man.  It  was  certain 
ty — proof — plain  as  if  he  had  said  so.  But  then,  I've 
known  it  for  weeks.  Now,  keep  well  back  in  the  eleva 
tor,  dear,  for  he  mustn't  see  you  as  I  get  out." 

When  the  elevator  was  slowing  for  the  parlor  floor 
374 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


Richmond  caught  his  daughter's  hand  and  pressed  it 
convulsively.  "  Good  luck ! "  he  said  in  an  undertone. 
"  If  you  don't  win  to-day  we'll  follow  him  to  France." 

"  To  the  ends  of  the  earth,"  laughed  she,  kissing  his 
hand  and  gayly  pushing  him  back  to  a  rear  corner  of 
the  car. 

The  door  closed  behind  her  and  the  car  resumed  its 
descent;  of  all  the  thoughts  boiling  in  Richmond's  ex 
cited  brain  not  one  was  related  to  the  strangeness  of 
his  own  conduct  or  to  the  amazing  transformation  in 
a  cold,  tyrannical  nature.  In  fact,  the  transformation 
was  apparent  rather  than  real.  The  chase  had  ever 
dominated  him — the  passion  for  the  chase.  And  it  was 
dominating  him  now. 

In  the  wall  opposite  the  elevator,  and  the  width  of 
the  rather  wide  room  from  it,  was  a  long  mirror.  No 
man  could  well  have  been  freer  from  physical  vanity 
than  this  big,  self-conscious  Roger  Wade.  Beyond 
his  human  duty  of  making  himself  inoffensive  to  the 
eye  in  the  matter  of  clothing,  he  did  nothing  whatever 
toward  personal  adornment.  Yet  as  Beatrice  advanced 
he  was  primping  industriously  and  unconsciously.  To 
occupy  his  agitated  mind  he  was  standing  before  the 
mirror  smoothing  his  hair,  arranging  his  tie,  fussing 
with  the  hang  of  the  big,  loose,  dark-blue  suit  that 

375 


WHITE   MAGIC 


gave  his  splendid  figure  an  air  of  freedom.  Their  eyes 
met  in  the  glass.  He  did  not  turn,  but  gazed  at  her — 
and  who  would  not  have  been  charmed  by  a  creature 
so  redolent  of  springtime  freshness,  from  the  yellow 
roses  in  her  hat,  looking  as  if  they  were  just  from  the 
garden,  to  the  scrupulously  neat  effect  of  stockings 
and  ties?  She  stood  beside  him,  her  yellow  roses  nod 
ding  in  line  with  his  ear.  And  they  made  a  delightful 
picture — a  rare  harmony  of  contrasts  and  symmetries. 

She  laughed  radiantly.     "  Chang !  "  she  cried. 

He  was  straightway  so  disconcerted  that  her  amuse 
ment  could  not  but  increase.  "Through  primping?" 
mocked  she. 

"  I  think  so,"  he  replied.  "  I  see  you  attended  to 
all  that  thoroughly  before  you  came  down." 

"  Yes,"  said  she  with  the  air  of  half-serious,  halfr 
jesting  complacency  she  could  carry  off  so  well.  "  I'm 
ready  to  the  last  button.  Let's  sit  over  there — by  the 
window."  Then,  as  they  sat  opposite  each  other: 
"  Why  are  you  so  solemn  ?  " 

Again  Roger  had  to  struggle  to  keep  himself  in 
hand. 

"  Why  do  you  avoid  looking  at  me?  "  laughed  she. 
And  so  glad  was  she  to  see  him  again  that  she  had  less 
difficulty  than  she  had  feared  in  hiding  her  anxiety, 
her  feeling  that  she  was  playing  her  last  stake  in  the 

376 


BE  ATE  ICE   LOSES 


game  that  seemed  to  her  to  mean  lifelong  happiness  or 
lifelong  wretchedness. 

He  colored,  but  contrived  to  smile  and  to  look  at 
her.  It  was  an  unsteady  gaze,  a  grave  smile.  "  I've 
ccme,"  said  he,  "  because  I  wish  to  urge  you  to  go  back 
home.  Your  father  and  I — 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  interrupted  she.  "  Father  has 
been  here." 

"And  you're  going  back?" 

"  No — no,  indeed.  I've  made  the  first  step  toward 
being  independent.  I'm  going  to  keep  on.  Father's  a 
dear,  but  he's  not  to  be  trusted.  If  he  controls  he 
tyrannizes.  He  might  try  not  to  do  it,  but  he  could 
not  help  himself.  So — I'm  to  be  a  dressmaker." 

"  What  nonsense,  Rix !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  There's 
nothing  so  detestable  as  an  independent  woman — a  mas 
culine  woman." 

"  One  that  has  a  will  of  her  own  and  proposes  to  the 
man  if  she  happens  to  feel  like  it  ?  "  suggested  she, 
with  dancing  eyes. 

"  Well — yes — if  you  insist  on  putting  it  that  way." 

"  Woman,  the  weak,  the  foolish,  the  clinging — 
that's  your  ideal?  "  said  she. 

He  nodded  emphatically. 

"  Isn't  it  strange,"  said  she  absently,  "  that  we 
never  fall  in  love  with  our  ideals  ?  " 

377 


WHITE   MAGIC 


Roger  stirred  about  in  his  chair,  much  embar 
rassed. 

"  I  suppose  it's  part  of  our  never — never- — wanting 
to  do  what  we  ought — and  never,  never  doing  it  if  we 
can  help." 

Roger  took  his  hat  from  the  floor  beside  his  chair, 
got  ready  to  rise.  "  If  you're  determined  on  not  go 
ing  home  I  suppose  it's  useless  for  me  to  talk.  But — 
your  father  is  old — much  older  these  last  few  weeks, 
Rix.  If  you  could  make  it  up  with  him " 

"Oh,  but  I  have,"  cried  she.  "We  are  better 
friends  than  ever.  I  don't  think  we'll  ever  quarrel 
again." 

The  artist  showed  a  rather  conventional  kind  of 
pleasure.  "  I'm  sincerely  glad,"  said  he.  "  I  like  him 
and  I  like  you,  and  I'd  have  been  sorry  to  go  away 
feeling  that  you  two  were  at  outs." 

"  You're  not  a  bit  natural,  Chang.  You  don't  talk 
like  yourself.  What's  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Probably  I've  got  too  much  on  my  mind — the 
hurry  of  going  so  soon.  That  reminds  me.  I  must 
say  good-by.  I've  got  such  a  lot  to  do." 

Her  face  did  not  change,  but  her  heart  began  to 
flutter  wildly. 

"  You  and  your  father  are  friends,"  proceeded  he, 
his  inward  state  showing  only  in  the  fact  that  he  was 

378 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


absurdly  repeating  himself.  "  What  I  came  to  do  is 
done.  So  I'll  go — as  that  was  my  only  reason  for  both 
ering  you." 

She  gazed  mockingly  at  him,  shaking  her  head. 
"  Oh,  no — Chang.  That  wasn't  why  you  came." 

"  I  assure  you  it  was.     My  only  reason." 

"  You  big,  foolish  Chang !  "  mocked  she.  "  You 
don't  know  your  own  mind.  Now,  do  sit  down.  That's 
better.  Now — there  you  are,  jumping  up  again. 
What  is  the  matter?" 

"  I  must  be  going." 

"Is  it  really  true  that  big  men  are  more  stupid? 
.  .  .  No,  that  wasn't  why  you  came.  You  came  be 
cause " 

"  Now,  Rix,"  cried  he  angrily — for  her  eyes  plainly 
foretold  what  was  coming.  "  That  joke  has  gone  far 
enough — too  far — much  too  far." 

"What  joke?" 

"  About  your  being  in  love  with  me." 

"  Whether  or  not  it's  a  joke  that  I'm  in  love  with 
you,  it  certainly  is  not  a  joke  that  you  are  in  love 
with  me." 

He  sat  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  and  smiled  ironically. 
"Really?"  said  he. 

"Really,"  declared  she.  "Shall  I  prove  it  to 
you?" 

379 


WHITE   MAGIC 


He  stood.  "  I've  no  time.  It's  very  pleasant  dawd 
ling  here  with  you,  but ': 

She  ignored  his  hand,  concentrated  on  his  eyes. 
"What  else  have  you  painted  besides  that  picture?" 
asked  she. 

He  blushed  slightly.    "  I'm  very  slow  at  my  work." 

Her  smile  let  him  know  that  she  was  fully  aware 
how  heavily  she  had  scored.  "  You  came  over  to  stay 
here  in  America,"  pursued  she.  "  Yet,  you  are  going 
back — never  to  return,  you  announce.  Why?  .  .  . 
You're  not  going  through  fear  of  father.  No — don't 
pretend.  Fear  isn't  in  your  line — fear  of  men.  And 
you're  not  going  through  fear  of  me?  You  could 
easily  bar  me  out — make  it  impossible  for  me  to  an 
noy  you." 

He  had  seated  himself  again.  He  was  listening  in 
tently. 

"  You  are  going,"  she  went  on,  "  through  fear  of 
yourself."  She  laughed  softly.  "  A  regular  panic, 
Chang ! "  she  cried.  "  You  didn't  intend  to  sail  till 
next  week.  You  are  running  off  in  the  morning — by 
the  first  steamer." 

He  made  a  faint  effort  to  rise,  gave  it  up,  resumed 
the  study  of  his  hatband. 

"  You  were  going  to  take  my  picture  with  you," 
continued  she. 

380 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


"  Your  picture?  "  said  he  with  feeble  irony. 

"  Our  picture,"  corrected  she  softly. 

He  waved  the  hat  in  a  gesture  of  hopelessness. 

"  Then,"  proceeded  she,  "  you  changed  your  mind 
and  decided  to  leave  it.  But  you  thought  you  wouldn't 
part  with  it  until  the  last  moment — to-morrow  morn 
ing.  Oh,  Chang !  Chang !  " 

"  I  found  it  more  convenient  to  send  it  last  night," 
said  he  with  a  brave  effort  at  indifference. 

"  Convenient  ?  "  she  laughed.  "  I  can  see  you 
storming  against  your  weakness,  as  you  call  it.  I  can 
see  you  resolving  to  be  brave — to  free  yourself  imme 
diately.  But  your  scheme  didn't  work.  For  the  only 
result  of  not  having  the  picture  to  say  good-by  to  was 
that  you  had  to  come  here  and  take  one  last  look  at  the 
original." 

He  laughed  aloud — a  forced,  mirthless  laugh. 
"  Same  old  Rix !  "  exclaimed  he.  "  Of  all  the  conceit !  " 

"Isn't  it,  though?  "  retorted  she  with  a  coquettish 
nod.  "  But  it's  the  truth,  too— isn't  it?  " 

"  I'd  hate  to  destroy  any  illusion  that  seems  to  give 
you  so  much  happiness." 

"  You  couldn't,  Chang.  For  "  —  softly  —  "  I 
couldn't  feel  as  I  do  toward  you  if  I  didn't  know,  with 
that  deep,  deep  heart  knowledge,  that  we  are — like 


381 


WHITE   MAGIC 


He  rose  resolutely,  in  his  eyes  an  expression  that 
thrilled  and  frightened  her.  She  had  from  time  to 
time  caught  glimpses  of  the  man  of  whom  that  was  the 
expression,  but  only  glimpses — when  he  was  at  work 
and  unconscious  of  her  presence.  Now,  somehow,  the 
expression  seemed  to  reveal  this  almost  unknown  man 
within  the  Roger  she  loved.  However,  she  concealed 
her  alarm. 

"  You  see,  I've  proved  that  you  do  love  me,"  said 
she.  "  But,  Chang  " — solemnly — "  even  though  you 
do  love  me  and  I  love  you,  what  does  it  amount  to — 
except  for — for  misery — unless  we  have  each  other  ?  " 

He  slowly  dropped  to  the  chair  again.  He  looked 
at  her  sternly,  angrily.  "  It's  the  truth,"  said  he.  "  I 
do  love  you.  It  is  a  whim  with  you — a  caprice — a  piece 
of  willfulness.  But  with  me" — he  drew  a  long  breath 
— "  I  love  you.  The  only  excuse  for  the  way  you've 
acted  is  that  you're  too  young  and  light-hearted  to 
know  what  you're  about." 

Her  hands  clutched  each  other  convulsively  in  her 
lap.  But  she  was  careful  to  keep  from  her  face  all 
sign  of  the  feeling  those  words  inspired. 

He  laughed  with  bitter  irony.  "  To  that  extent — 
you've  had  your  way,"  he  went  on.  "  Get  what  satis 
faction  you  can  out  of  it — for,  while  you've  conquered 
my  heart,  you'll  not  conquer  my  will.  I  am  not  yours 

382 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


to  dispose  of  as  you  see  fit.  I  can  get  over  caring  for 
you — and  I  shall." 

"  But  why,  Chang?     Why?  " 

For  answer  he  smiled  mockingly  at  her. 

"  In  your  heart  of  hearts  you  don't  believe  for  an 
instant  it's  a  caprice  with  me.  You  know  better, 
Chang."  Sincerity  looked  from  her  eyes,  pleaded  in 
her  voice. 

But  Roger  held  his  ground  stubbornly.  "  I  know 
it  is  caprice,"  he  said.  "  I'm  not  clean  crazy  with 
vanity,  Rix.  But  even  if  you  were  in  earnest — as  much 
in  earnest  as  you  pretend — perhaps  as  you  think — still, 
that  wouldn't  change  things.  We  can't  be  anything 
more  to  each  other  than  friends.  In  any  other  relation 
we'd  be  worse  than  useless  to  each  other.  You  need  a 
man  of  your  own  sort.  If  I  tied  up  with  any  woman 
it'd  be  with  one  of  my  sort." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  she.  "  It  wouldn't  be 
worth  while  for  you  to  explain — for  I  couldn't  under 
stand.  All  I  know  is,  we  love  each  other." 

"  But  marriage  is  a  matter  of  temperaments.  If 
you  had  less  will  I  might  compel  you  to  go  my  way, 
to  learn  to  like  and  lead  my  kind  of  life.  If  I  had  less 
will  I  might  adapt  myself  to  you — and  become  a  com 
fortable,  contemptible  rich  woman's  nonentity  of  a  hus 
band.  But  neither  of  us  can  change — so,  we  part." 


WHITE   MAGIC 


"  I've  thought  of  those  things,"  said  she,  quiet  and 
sweet  and  unconvinced.  "  I've  gone  over  and  over 
them,  day  and  night.  But — Chang,  I  can't  give 
you  up." 

"  That  is  to  say,  you  don't  care  what  becomes  of 
me  so  long  as  you  get  your  way." 

She  did  not  respond  to  his  argumentative  mood, 
but  took  refuge  in  woman's  impregnable  citadel.  "  I 
trust  my  instinct — what  it  tells  me  is  best  for  us." 

"  You  don't  realize  it,"  argued  he  desperately,  "  but 
you  count  on  my  love  for  you  making  me  weak  enough 
to  adapt  myself  to  your  kind  of  life." 

"  I  count  on  our  love's  making  us  both  happy." 

"  You  wish  to  marry  me  simply  because  you  think 
I'm  necessary  to  your  happiness  ?  " 

"  Yes — Chang.  You  are  necessary  to  my  happi 
ness." 

"  And  my  happiness — have  you  thought  of  it?  " 

"  I  love  you." 

"  And  you  feel  that  your  love  ought  to  be  enough 
to  make  me  happy?  " 

"  Your  love  is  all  I  need,"  replied  she  with  sad 
gentleness. 

"  That's  the  woman's  point  of  view,"  cried  he.  "  I'll 
admit  it's  more  or  less  mine,  too — when  I'm  with  you 
or  have  been  thinking  about  you  till  my  head's  turned. 

384 


BE  ATE  ICE   LOSES 


But — Rix  " — he  was  powerfully  in  earnest  now — 
"  while  love  may  be  all  that's  necessary  to  make  a 
woman  happy,  it  isn't  so  with  a  man.  For  a  man,  love 
is  to  life  what  salt  is  to  food — not  the  food  as  it  is 
with  a  woman,  but  the  thing  that  gives  the  food  savor." 

He  paused.  But  she  sat  silent,  her  gaze  upon  her 
hands  folded  listlessly  in  her  lap.  He  went  on :  "  You 
have  been  indulging  this  whim  of  yours  without  giving 
it  a  serious  thought.  Now,  I  want  you  to  think — to 
help  me  save  us  from  the  folly  your  willfulness  and  my 
weakness  are  tempting  us  to  commit.  I  want  you  to 
ask  yourself :  '  What  sort  of  life  would  Chang  and  I 
lead  together?  Would  I  tolerate  his  devotion  to  his 
work?  Would  I  respect  him  if  he  gradually  yielded 
to  my  temptings  and  gave  up  his  work?  Whichever 
way  it  turned  out,  wouldn't  I  either  dislike  or  despise 
him?'" 

"  You — don't  love  me,"  she  murmured. 

"  I  do.  But  I'm  not  so  selfish  as  your  inexperience 
and  thoughtlessness  make  you." 

She  scarcely  heard.  She  was  gazing  with  all  her 
mind  and  heart  at  the  new  Chang  revealed  clearly  for 
the  first  time  in  the  intense  earnestness  of  this  their 
first  profoundly  and  crucially  serious  talk.  This  was 
the  man  her  father  had  warned  her  about.  There  were 
dark  circles  round  her  eyes  as  if  they  had  been  bruised, 
23  385 


WHITE  MAGIC 


and  in  them  the  look  of  present  pain.  He  happened  to 
glance  at  her.  He  saw — groaned.  "  No  matter !  "  he 
cried.  "  I  love  you.  I  can't  bear  it.  I'm  weak — con 
temptibly  weak  where  you're  concerned.  We'll  surely 
fail — fail  miserably.  But  we  must  go  on,  now.  I  had 
a  presentiment — I  was  a  damn  fool  to  come  here  to-day. 
Yes — we've  drifted  too  far.  We  must  go  on — over  the 
falls." 

He  stopped,  appalled  by  his  own  passionate  out 
burst.  She  shook  her  head  slowly.  "  No,  we  must  not 
go  on,"  said  she. 

Her  tone  instantly  calmed  his  runaway  passion ;  he 
stared  in  amazement. 

"You  really  feel  like  that?"  she  went  on— "  feel 
it'd  be  weak  and  wrong  for  you  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you  the  truth — about  yourself  and 
about  me,"  was  his  reply.  "  You  surely  must  see  it." 

She  gave  a  long  sigh,  furtive,  deep.  But  her  voice 
was  steady  as  she  said  sadly :  "  Then — we  must  give 
each  other  up." 

"  That  is  certainly  best,"  promptly  assented  he. 
"  You  see  now  that  you  didn't  want  me,  but  only  your 
own  way." 

"  I  see  that  we  should  not  be  happy.  I  don't  under 
stand  your  point  of  view.  I  suppose  I'm  not  experi 
enced  enough.  But  I  see  you  are  in  earnest — that  it 

386 


BEATRICE   LOSES 


isn't  just  a — a  notion  with  you.  So — "  From  her 
face  waned  the  last  glimmer  of  its  look  of  the  spring 
time.  Her  voice  sank  almost  to  a  whisper — "  I  give 
up." 

He  stood  with  aggressive  erectness.  "  Then — it  is 
settled." 

She  nodded  without  looking  at  him.  She  could  not 
trust  herself  to  look.  "  I'll  not  bother  you  any  more," 
said  she. 

He  saw  that  he  was  victor — had  gained  his  point. 
Yet  never  did  man  look  or  feel  less  the  victor.  He  put 
out  his  hand;  she  let  hers  rest  in  it.  "  Good-by,  Rix," 
he  said  with  a  brave  attempt  at  philosophic  calm. 
"  This  is  much  better  than  seeing  our  love  end  in  a 
quarrel  and  a  scandal — isn't  it?  " 

"You  go — in  the  morning?" 

"  Yes." 

Her  hand  dropped  to  her  lap.  He  looked  steadily 
at  her,  with  no  restraint  upon  his  expression,  because 
her  eyes  were  down.  "  Good-by,"  he  repeated.  He 
waited  for  a  reply,  but  none  came.  With  that  long, 
sure  stride  of  his,  free  and  graceful,  he  went  to  the 
f  stairway  and  descended — and  departed. 


XXI 

EOGEE    WINS 

LA  PEOVENCE  was  due  to  sail  in  twenty  minutes, 
One  whistle  had  blown ;  one  of  the  gangways  was  cast 
ing  off.  Roger,  with  a  suppressed  excitement  more 
effective  than  any  shouting  or  waving  of  fists,  was  su 
perintending  the  taking  of  his  luggage  from  the  ship. 
"  There's  still  one  piece  to  come  ashore — the  old 
leather  trunk  with  brass  nails,"  he  said  to  the  polite 
chief  steward.  "  It  must  be  found.  Double  your  ef 
forts  and  I'll  double  your  fee."  He  turned,  found  him 
self  squarely  facing  Beatrice  Richmond. 

The  color  flamed  in  his  face ;  it  vanished  from  hers. 
"  You  got  my  note  ?  "  she  said.  "  And  you  are  sailing 
anyhow  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  get  your  note,"  replied  he.  "  But  I  am 
not  sailing.  .  .  .  One  moment,  please."  Then  to  the 
chief  steward :  "  There  is  also  a  note  for  me.  I  must 
have  it." 

"  Parfaitement,  Monsieur."  And  the  chief  steward 
raced  up  the  gangway. 

Roger  and  Beatrice  stood  aside  in  a  quiet  place, 

a   calm    in   the   surging   crowd   of   the   voyagers   and 

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ROGER    WINS 


their  friends.  Beatrice  looked  at  him  with  that  fine, 
frank  directness  which  had  been  her  most  conspicuous 
trait  in  all  her  dealings  with  him.  Said  she :  "  In  my 
note  I  asked  you  to  take  me  on  any  terms  or  on  no 
terms.  All  I  wish  is  to  be  near  you  and  to  love  you." 

She  spoke  the  words  without  any  trace  of  emotion 
in  either  tone  or  manner — spoke  them  with  a  certain 
monotonous  finality  that  gave  them  all  the  might  of  the 
simply  genuine.  And  he  answered  in  much  the  same 
way.  "  I  am  not  sailing,"  said  he,  "  because — because 
to  love  you  and  to  have  you — that's  life  for  me.  The 
rest  isn't  worth  talking  about." 

"  Not  worth  talking  about,"  echoed  she.  "  I  don't 
know  whether  we'll  be  happy  or  not,  but  I  do  know  it's 
my  only  chance  to  be  anything  but  miserable." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  could  get  over  you  or 
not,"  was  his  matching  confession,  "  but  I  do  know  that 
I  don't  want  to — and  won't." 

A  moment's  silence,  with  the  two  gazing  up  at  the 
towering  steamer  through  the  great  doors  in  the  pier 
shed.  Then  his  eyes  turned  to  her,  to  look  at  her  with 
an  intensity  that  made  her  feel  as  if  she  had  been  sud 
denly  seized  in  strong  yet  gentle  arms  and  were  being 
borne  by  mighty  wings  up  and  up  and  still  up. 

"  Chang,"  she  said  between  laughing  and  sobbing, 
"  I  must  have  been  crazy  yesterday  to  refuse  you." 

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WHITE   MAGIC 


"  No — you're  crazy  to-day.  So  am  I.  That  is, 
I'm  normal  again — what's  been  normal  for  me  ever 
since  I  knew  you.  And  I  hope  the  day'll  never  come 
when  I'll  be  sane." 

"  Are  you  happy  now  ?  " 

"  Delirious." 

"  As  we  used  to  be  when  we  were  together  by  the 
cascade  ?  " 

"  Like  that — only  a  thousand  times  more  so."  And 
they  gazed  at  each  other  with  foolish-fond  eyes,  and 
from  their  lips  issued  those  extraordinary  sounds  that 
seem  imbecile  or  divine,  according  as  the  listening  ears 
are  attuned. 

"  Your  father  was  right,"  said  Roger.  "  Love  is 
master."  Again  she  was  seeing  the  new  and  more  won 
derful  and  more  compelling  Chang.  "  I  found  that 
everything  was  going  to  stop  stock-still  if  I  went  away 
from  you." 

The  chief  steward,  bearing  the  note,  and  his  assist 
ants  who  had  been  collecting  Roger's  luggage  around 
him,  now  appeared.  Roger  tore  open  the  note,  read 
its  one  brief  sentence  of  unconditional  surrender.  Then 
he  dismissed  the  men  with  fees  so  amazing  to  them  that 
they  thanked  him  with  tears  in  their  eyes.  "  But  you 
really  must  be  careful,"  cautioned  Beatrice.  "  You 
know  we've  got  no  money  to  throw  away." 

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ROGER    WINS 


Roger  gave  her  a  look  that  dazzled  her.  "  I  see 
you  understand,"  said  he.  "  Well,  we  may  be  happy 
in  spite  of  all — all  the  difficulties." 

She  laughed.  "  I  don't  think,  dear,"  said  she, 
"  that  you're  so  weak  as  you  fear,  or  I  so  foolish.  .  .  . 
Maybe  you'd  like  me  to  keep  on  with  the  dressmak- 
ing?  » 

He  frowned  in  mock  severity.  "  I  don't  want  ever 
to  hear  of  it  again." 

"  Then  you  never  shall,"  replied  she  with  mock 
humility.  "  You  want  a  meek  slave — and  you  shall 
have  one."  Her  lips  moved  with  no  sound  issuing. 

"What  are  you  saying  there?"  demanded  he. 

"  What  Ruth  said  to  Naomi."  She  gazed  at  him 
with  ecstatic,  incredulous  eyes.  "  Have  I  really  got 
you  ?  "  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her  with  an  amused  smile.  It  died 
away  slowly,  and  his  gaze  grew  solemn.  "  That  will 
depend  on — you,"  he  said. 

She  saw  there  was  more  than  the  surface  meaning 
in  the  words ;  then  she  saw  their  deeper  meaning — saw 
as  clearly  as  an  inexperienced  girl  may  see,  but  only 
so  clearly,  the  hidden  reality  of  the  man  she  had  been 
striving  to  win,  and  would  ever  have  to  strive  to  keep. 
And  beautiful  was  the  light  in  her  eyes  as  she  mur 
mured  :  "  Love  will  teach  me !  " 

391 


WHITE   MAGIC 


He  half  turned  away  to  hide  the  wave  of  emotion 
that  almost  unmanned  him.  When  he  spoke  it  was  to 
say  in  a  queer,  husky  voice :  "  Let  me  see  the  express 
man  about  this  luggage — then — we'll  go  to  lunch 
somewhere." 

"  Let's  go — in — "     She  halted,  eyes  dancing. 

"In  a  cab?" 

She  blushed  and  laughed.  "  Isn't  it  about  time?  " 
said  she,,  eyes  full  of  that  charming  audacity  of  hers. 
"  How  well  we  understand  each  other !  How  congenial 
we  are ! " 

"Wonderful,  isn't  it?"  cried  he.  "I  hope  there 
have  been  other  cases  like  ours — lots  of  'em.  But  I 
doubt  it." 

She  waited  while  he  negotiated  the  return  of  the 
baggage  to  Deer  Spring.  When  he  rejoined  her — -or, 
rather,  gave  her  his  undivided  attention,  for  he  had  not 
let  her  get  so  much  as  three  feet  away  from  him — she 
said :  "  Now  I  must  telephone  father." 

"Oh,  why  hurry  about  that?" 

"  I  must  tell  him  not  to  engage  passage  for  next 
Wednesday,"  explained  she. 

And  they  both  burst  out  laughing. 

(2) 
THE    END 


392 


— " 


